Findings
by Clodilla
Summary: An in-game KOTOR fanfic centering around an LS female Revan, her good relations with a certain Republic pilot, and her dislike for Jedi Padawan Bastila. I write for myself, so updates are inevitable, but reviews are always appreciated! UPDATED!
1. A Jedi

"The damage doesn't look so bad from –"

A thousand small explosions swarmed over the _Endar Spire_, blending together until the starship disintegrated in one shattering blast.

Carth Onasi stepped back from the aft porthole of the escape pod he was in and sagged down into the safety harness with a sigh. _Never mind, then._ He hadn't really known anyone on the ship, but the loss of good men and women – _and for what?_ – was just sad.

_At least a few of us got away_. Their "commander," Bastila had to be ushered to an escape pod – despite being a Jedi, she'd been overwhelmed by the suddenness and scale of the Sith attack, and was too scared to even walk straight. He was the last to leave, waiting until the only remaining survivor made it to the pods; a crewwoman with reddish colored hair.

She was hunched over, her right hand covering her ribs. "Are you OK?" Carth asked. "Are you hurt?"

"Yea," she said, nodding. "Just a slash. It isn't very deep."

The escape pod started to vibrate. "We're passing through the atmosphere – strap in."

She nodded again, reaching for the harness, when the escape pod shuddered violently. The harness slipped from her grasp and she went bouncing along with the pod, slamming headfirst into the wall.

"Oh, hell, no!" Carth exclaimed as her body fell back to the floor of the pod, limbs splayed out in the sickening sprawl of unconsciousness. The vibrating intensified, and a red glow crept into his view. _Hang in there, soldier, and I'll get you taken care of as soon as we crash down._

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It was easy to see why the apartment was abandoned. A fist-sized chunk was missing from each of the two large windows dominating the single room. In the Upper City of Taris, several hundreds of feet above the planet's actual surface, this allowed in a whistling, chilly breeze. Which would have been manageable, except that Carth soon discovered the heating system was broken.

There were two small beds, a grungy workbench, a half-ripped out kitchen, a cramped and equally grungy bathroom off on one side, and only one table with a few torn and stained chairs _If this is the Tarisians idea of luxury, I hate to think of what poverty looks like. _An enlisted barracks in an Outer Rim base had more cheer.

He laid his still-unconscious crewmate on a bed. A vibrant purple welt was forming near her left temple, but she was breathing regularly. Carth turned his attention to the wound she'd been nursing in the pod. He could see a rip in her clothing, and bloody skin beneath. Silently hoping she'd stay unconscious for the next few minutes, he fumbled with the fasteners on her vest until he could pull it off, then hiked up her shirt to expose her wound.

It was just a slash along her side, not even a quarter of an inch deep at its worst. _Doesn't appear to be infected or from a poison blade_. Carth let his gaze wander over his mystery companion while he injected her with the hypo in a medpac salvaged from the escape pod. She wasn't wearing the dog tags all Republic soldiers had – come to think of it, she wasn't in any kind of uniform at all. She'd been with Bastila's party – he recognized the two small braids pulled up into the ponytail on either side – but she wasn't dressed as a Jedi and bore no weapons other than blasters and a vibroblade. _So…what are you?_

Her skin intrigued him most of all. She was young, probably in her late twenties, though her eyes were set a bit far apart, giving her an air of intelligence and aloofness that aged her, even in her sleep. He expected the skin of her torso to be as smooth and clear as on her face, but it was dotted with a variety of scars, far more than would be anticipated on one so young. More than even he had after twenty years as a soldier. Carth recognized the wide burn of a blaster scar, the thin white line from a blade, and the jagged angles of shrapnel. Several shapes were unknown to him – _those small, round ones might be from shock sticks_. But just above the now-closing gash he'd treated, he spotted the distinctive cauterization marks left behind by a lightsaber.

_Jedi can heal themselves without leaving scars – she's not one of them. But she's been fighting against lightsabers – against the Sith_. He regarded her with a mixture of suspicion and respect, remembering the way she'd decapitated the last Sith trooper standing between her and the escape pods with a backhanded strike. _Who are y_ –

Suddenly, she started thrashing about in the bed. Her lips formed words but no sound came out. Carth backed away just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by a flailing arm. _Nightmares…curiouser and curiouser…guess that means I'm it for keeping watch_. He collected his blasters and plopped down into one of the ratty chairs, hoping there were hypostims in the medkit.

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Forty-eight hours later, Carth began to think the black splotches on the carpet were trying to eat his shoes. _They keep moving…_

He hadn't slept. He'd only eaten one of the handful of ration packs from the escape pod's survival kit. He hadn't showered, and he certainly hadn't shaved. He stood up and walked around the apartment every few hours, to keep the circulation in his legs from completely closing down, fighting the fatigue.

There had been no change in the condition of his little invalid, either. She would dream for several minutes – he'd clocked the longest session at a half an hour – thrashing about and trying to speak, then would calm down and lie still for a few hours. Her wounds were completely healed, and other than the bruise from the escape pod she had no visible injuries. Carth wondered if that smack to the head had done more damage than it first appeared.

A few Sith patrols had gone through the halls of the building they were in. Their apartment must've been abandoned for a long time, because none even paused at their door to monitor for life forms. Carth had fished out the transmitter from the survival kit and tuned into the Sith communication frequency the last time they'd come by. The patrol wasn't talking about anything more interesting than what the back of a Twi'lek's head resembled, but when he headed towards the windows he picked up on the aerial patrols' frequency – over which the crashing of several Republic escape pods into the Under City was being discussed.

_One of those must be Bastila's pod…we'll need her help to get off this planet_. The pilots were also going over the new shoot-on-sight protocol put in place by a planetary quarantine. _Jedi or no, she's going to need our help too. Assuming Red over here ever wakes up – though_, he mused, casting another glance at her, _it's more auburn than red_.

As if on cue, she moaned.

Carth rushed over – another nightmare? But instead of wild, frenzied movements, she was slowly and deliberately shaking her head side to side. With a second, louder moan, she propped her elbows up and lifted herself a few inches off the mattress – _she's awake!_

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"So, where do you want to start?" she asked him.

Carth took in the layout of the Upper City in one long glance. "The cantina. Always start in the cantina." Ilithia – _or 'Just Ilithia,' as she had snapped when prompted for a family name_ – shrugged. "It should be straight ahead, past that emporium," Carth continued, punching up a map on his datapad. He raised his head to look over at her, but she was already purposefully striding away.

_I'll never be accused of being slow, _Ilithia thought. It had only been a few hours since she'd regained consciousness. In that time, she had showered, eaten, upgraded her vibroblade, and agreed to help him find Bastila. _Never mind the little witch treated me like a retarded servant girl, and even Carth admits her famous Battle Meditation was worthless in that ambush. _ They'd also taken a few minutes to explore the apartment building they were hiding out in – slicing up a couple of Sith along the way. Carth's unspoken but obvious fear that she would be inexperienced civilian deadweight – _as opposed to the inexperienced Jedi deadweight we're looking for_ – evaporated when she promptly rifled through the dead Sith's pockets for their spare credits and supplies.

No sooner had he caught up with her than she said "I'd like to know more about you, Carth," repeating a question he'd brushed off back in the apartment. She didn't want to think about what he might have heard her say in her delirium, but was planning to extract as much information about him as she suspected he already had about her.

Back at the apartment he'd been more than happy to tell her what he knew about Bastila and the Sith – though why she didn't seem to know much about the war was puzzling – but his personal life had been off limits for years, and today was not the day to change that. _Name, rank, and serial number, sister, that's all you're getting out of me_. "I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars…I fought in the Mandalorian wars before all of this started." Without breaking stride, Ilithia whipped her head around and fixed him with a calculating gaze. _Change the subject, fast…_ "But with all that I've never experienced the kind of slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless."

She slowed down, her gaze softening. _There's pain there_, she thought. _He's trying to hide it, but it's there – can I get him to tell me?_ Ilithia knew it would be pushing things to ask, but if he had personal issues with the Sith she wanted to know about them before they got her killed. "What happened?" she asked softly. _Tell me…tell me…_

The words rushed out before Carth even realized he was speaking. "My homeworld was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet." Her eyes widened, comprehending. "The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!" _Did I just say that?_

"You're talking like it's your fault," Ilithia said pensively. _Anger? Check. Feelings of inadequacy? Check. Guilt?_ "Like you failed somehow."

"It shouldn't be my fault," he snapped. _This is not happening_. "I did everything I could…I followed my orders and did my duty." He sped up as they passed the entrance to the emporium. "That shouldn't mean I failed them. I didn't!" _Carth Onasi, Captain, Galactic Republic Fleet, serial number 3263827. Carth Onasi, Captain…_

She quickened her pace, coming alongside in just a few strides. _Too far_. "I'm sorry, Carth," she said evenly, _don't-take-this-out-on-me_ written on her face. "I didn't mean to upset you." _But you're going to have to keep your head screwed on straight if we're going to get off this rock alive_.

"I know. Don't worry about it," Carth sighed. Ticking off the one person he had to help him would not be a good idea, even if she started it. "I…must not be making much sense." Ilithia gave him a _yea, right_ look. "You probably mean well with your questions," he said, hoping if he was firm enough she would let the subject drop for good. "I'm just not accustomed to talking much about my past. At all, actually," he snarled.

She opened her mouth to retort, but the sight of a Sith guard at the cantina's entrance quieted both of them. _Curiosity really could get me killed here_, she thought, _if I tick him off too much_.

The doors opened into a long, narrow room dominated by a Pazaak table. Uninterested, Ilithia hurried towards the central bar, a circular room filled with small tables. Lights were low, but she could see the entrances to other rooms, including a dance floor off to her right. Most of the patrons were human. Ilithia slid into a seat at the nearest empty table, stashing her simple shoulder pack between her feet. "I'd like an Alderaanian firewhiskey, please," she said to the waitress who quickly materialized out of the darkness.

"I'll have the same," Carth said absentmindedly, moving to sit while scanning the crowd. The waitress turned and vanished. "This place is crawling with off-duty Sith," he whispered.

"Military buzz-cuts and a constant look of disgust?" she whispered back. "Great."

Carth shrugged. "Well, we could use some more information, and what better source would there be than drunk Sith?"

"No way," Ilithia spat. "I'd rather flirt with a drooling Bomar than with these rats."

The arrival of their drinks interrupted them. "Two Alderaanian firewhiskeys…that will be twenty credits," the waitress said icily, eyeing Carth's ratty orange jacket.

_Credits…right_, Ilithia thought, panicking. "Uh, just keep our tab open for now," she stammered. The waitress nodded curtly and headed back for the bar. "I don't have twenty credits," Ilithia whispered to Carth.

He grimaced. "Neither do I."

"I don't suppose there's a branch of the Republic Fleet Credit Union nearby where we could make a withdrawal, either," she muttered, frowning in the direction of the entrance guard.

"We've got to make some money, fast." His earlier survey of the cantina had been a friend-or-foe scan of their fellow patrons; now he diverted his attention to their activities. "There was that Pazaak table back by the entrance," he remembered, brightening.

Ilithia shook her head immediately. "Don't look at me, I'm awful."

Carth glanced around at his fellow drinkers. Not spotting anyone who looked like a shark, he slugged back his firewhiskey and stood up. "Don't go anywhere," he told Ilithia. "I won't be long."

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_A spring green recruit is better at Pazaak than that blowhard_, Carth thought, counting his credits as he strolled back into the main cantina. It had taken longer than he'd predicted – nearly two hours – but the three-hundred and fifty credits he had to show for it were worth the wait.

"Hey, good-looking," he called out to the woman seated across from him as he slid into his seat. "Look what I've got."

"Whatever it is I hope it takes you back to the slime pit you crawled out of," an unfamiliar blonde woman shot back, glaring.

He sprang back up, looking left and right urgently. "Sorry, ma'am," he exclaimed, "I thought you were the woman who was sitting here earlier." She opened her mouth to insult him a second time, but he was already striding away, craning his neck to check every corner of the cantina for Ilithia.

She wasn't in the dance hall – she wasn't in the lounge – probably chased away by that snotty little brat who assumed Carth must be a waiter because he didn't look rich. _There's not enough of a crowd in the main bar to conceal her – you should've known a woman that curious wouldn't be content to just sit there –_ _stupid, Onasi, stupid_, he berated himself, walking into a large, open room lined with viewscreens. A Hutt was visible in the distance. Nearby, several individuals were being treated for blade wounds. _Guess they picked a fight with the wrong person_.

"…But Twitch's opponent plans to take the champion down!" _Dueling, of course_, Carth realized, wandering closer. Banned on the more respectable core worlds, the Sith encouraged dueling, both for its entertainment value and to identify potential high-level recruits. "…Battle after battle, we've watched this young phenom rise through the ranks…In this corner, the challenger for the title of Taris Dueling Champion," – sporting auburn hair and gleaming grey eyes – "The Mysterious Stranger!"

_Oh, hell no…if that Rodian doesn't give her a good smack upside the head I sure will_, Carth fumed as Ilithia lobbed a grenade at her opponent before charging across the dueling ring, a lone vibroblade in her hands. _We're trying to avoid attracting attention from the Sith, not seeking it_. The Rodian got a round in with his blaster, missing Ilithia completely, then pulled out his own blade, wincing from the damage the grenade had inflicted. _At least her tactics are good_.

Better than good, in fact, he had to admit as the match wore on. With all her feinting and parrying Twitch could barely lay a blade on her, and when he did it was just a glancing blow she shrugged off easily. _The competitors here must be more incompetent than most if a raw recruit can slice up their champion so eas_ – Ilithia suddenly sprang into the air, somersaulting in mid-jump to bring her blade down on Twitch's shoulder and torso with tremendous force. _Holy gundark spit! _Carth gaped, leaning on the viewscreen in disbelief as the Rodian slumped to the ground, beaten. _We don't teach that in basic training!_

"It's over!" the announcer exclaimed, sounding as bowled over as Carth. "The fight is over! Twitch's reign of terror has ended! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new champion – the Mysterious Stranger!" Ilithia bowed quickly to the crowd, heading for the exit even before the medical team could load Twitch onto a stretcher.

A crowd quickly gathered by a door in a far corner, chanting "Stranger! Stranger!" Carth elbowed his way to the front, ignoring the rude comments and gestures from the wealthy and noble patrons – _Tarisians must not like orange_. Ilithia emerged from a darkened hall a few moments later, waving away the autograph seekers and glad-handers to slip through the crowd almost unnoticed by all but those nearest to her. As soon as she was within reach Carth seized her by the arm, pulling her through the throng. "Are you out of your mind!?" he hissed, dragging her towards the exit to the city as fast as he could without breaking into a run. "Are you trying to get yourself arrested?"

"No, I was trying to win some credits," she snarled, ripping her arm from his grasp. "Which I'd like to go collect before we leave, if it's alright with you."

"I've already won plenty of credits at Pazaak – without advertising my existence to every Sith on the planet," he replied.

She crossed her arms, derision all over her face. "Really. How much?"

Carth waved the credits in front of her face. "Three hundred and fifty."

"Nice," she deadpanned. "But Ajuur's already paid me a thousand credits for the four previous fights I won, and I'll get an additional five hundred as soon as you let me go back in there."

"Fifteen hundred…"

Ilithia sniffed, ignoring his blank stare. "Yea, it's nice. And as far as my being recognized, the benefit of using a melee weapon is that you're constantly on the move. With a blaster you stand still long enough for people to get to know your face – I think all anyone will remember about me is the color of my hair." Looking about, Carth had to admit she was probably right. The crowd, not knowing where their idol had gone to and unable to identify her, was already fading away into the far reaches of the cantina. _And the lighting did make her look like a brunette, _he thought,though he didn't know why he'd manage to notice that.

"Fine," he barked, "Go get your money and meet me outside." She nodded curtly and trotted back into the viewing room.

_She is most definitely not a raw recruit_, Carth told himself as he passed through the main bar towards the Pazaak room and the exit. _Our melee weapon training covers your basic attacking maneuvers, maybe flurries if there's time. Critical strikes are too hard for an untrained swordsman to recover from, and a jump like that…she's been trained somewhere else_. Oblivious to the glares from the Pazaak player he'd drained dry, he stepped through the doors and out to the city. _Thoroughly trained, by someone who was probably a master of melee fighting in their own right_. _Out on the frontier maybe…_

"There he is!" a shrill female voice cried. Carth jerked out of his reverie to realize he'd almost walked right into the high and mighty girl from the cantina – and two armed thugs on either side.

"Hey," he breathed, backing up several feet in one step, "Gentlemen…I'm sure this isn't necessary…"

"Blast the slummie!" the woman screamed. Carth had time to duck the first shot but knew he'd put himself right in line for the second –

With a loud gurgling sound the second thug fell down onto the ground Carth was staring at – dead. A scream a few seconds later told him the first had just met a similar fate. Ilithia stood over his dead body, her blade arched menacingly. The Tarisian woman barely waited long enough to blink before turning and running off into the city, yelling for her father.

"Are you hit?" Ilithia asked, watching her go with half a mind to follow. _It would be satisfying…_ "Are you hurt?"

"No," he replied, the tremor in his voice matching the trembling in his hands as the shock and adrenalin subsided. "That was close, though."

She wiped her blade clean on the cloth armor one of the thugs had worn, then slid it into its sheath with a single metallic swish. "I knew that girl was trouble the second I laid eyes on her," she muttered, shaking her head. "And you complained that my dueling was dangerous."

Carth brushed a bead of sweat away from his eyes. "She said my clothing looked like it came from a trash compactor – was I just supposed to stand there and take it?"

Ilithia laughed, eyeing the orange jacket. "Well, considering she's right…yes."

_Women_. "I like this jacket," he shot back.

"Enough to die for it?" she asked, amused. _It makes his skin look like he's spent a year in the Dune Sea without a sunshield – but it does bring out the warm brown in his eyes._

"You think she'll be back with more of her father's hired help?" Carth asked, suddenly worried.

She dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. "Nah. He'll be mad that her inability to keep her mouth shut has cost him two men – he won't waste any more on her little vendetta. Let's get going." Carth did notice her pause slightly as they turned the corner onto the main promenade, one hand dropping to the hilt of her blade, just in case.

They had only walked a few paces in silence before Ilithia struck again. "Is this a good time to ask you some more questions?" she asked innocently. She knew it would annoy him, but she was genuinely curious about the source of the pain his words hinted at. _And if he's going to be annoyed at me anyways, why stop now?_

Carth wanted to continue fuming; about the dueling, about her pestering questions, about her – everything about her. He wheeled about, a nasty retort on his lips, but the look in her eyes killed his anger before he could give it a voice. Instead of the detached indifference of merely "making conversation," there was a warm, seemingly genuine concern. _That can't be_, he thought, as she waited patiently for an answer. _She wouldn't truly care – she's got no reason to, other than to just amuse herself. So you want to play, sister? Let's play_. "I'm all ears, beautiful," he said, putting a suggestive emphasis on that last word.

For the first time since she'd woken up, Ilithia was truly speechless. _What did he just call me?_ She halted quickly, her boots scraping against the metal floor of the promenade. _Nobody…ever…_ Her jaw opened and closed several times, working back and forth. "Keep – keep talking like that…and…and – you might lose an ear or two," she finally spluttered, trying to glare at him.

"A little bit touchy, are we?" Carth asked, laughing. "Is there something else you'd prefer I called you?"

"How about my name?" she shot back, recovering her wits. _He cannot be serious._

_Maybe if you told me all of your name I would, 'Just Ilithia.'_ "Don't get yourself in a twist over it, gorgeous," he muttered. "I didn't mean anything by it." _It worked, though – gotta remember that._

"There you go again," she snapped, stalking off towards the other end of the promenade. _I knew it – brainless, lice-ridden Bantha!_

"Oh, for crying out – fine," he called out, hurrying after her. "If it'll make you feel any better, you call me something." She quickened her pace. "Come on, I can take it."

_How old is he – forty going on five?_ She sorted through her options quickly: insult him, or fight fire with fire. "How about 'handsome thug'?" she wondered, holding back a wicked grin when she saw him blush. _Anything you can do I can do better…_

"Uh, well…I like the first part of that." A familiar but nearly forgotten tingle worked its way through his body. _'Handsome'…Get a hold of yourself, Onasi, she's just playing along_. His mind tried to reassert control of things, but his mouth raced forward before he could rein it in. "But I'm a bit more partial to 'the most handsome pilot in the galaxy'. What do you think?"

Ilithia rolled her eyes. "Only if every other pilot in the galaxy is a Wookiee," she muttered, approaching a set of doors below a sign displaying a healer's insignia.

"Ouch," he drawled, laughing. "'Beautiful' doesn't sound so bad in comparison now, does it?" She shook her head, refusing to be drawn in any further as the doors opened.

"Greetings," a balding but dignified dark-skinned man called out to them, standing behind an examining table. "I am Dr. Zelka Forn. How may I – you've been injured, madam!" he exclaimed, coming around from behind the table and advancing on Ilithia. "When did this happen?"

She flinched and backed up a step when he reached up to examine the bruise she still bore on her forehead. "A few days ago," she said, glaring suspiciously at the healer. "It feels fine now."

"At least let me –"

"It's fine," Ilithia snapped. Carth shot her a _hey, relax_ look. "We'll buy a few medpacs in case it flares up, but I don't need to be examined." She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. "Thank you anyway."

The doctor nodded, motioning his assistant to start getting spare medpacs out of the storage containers in the corner. "Are you off-worlders?" he asked, eyeing Carth's jacket.

"Yea," Carth said slowly, ignoring the snicker from Ilithia as she moved off to one side, counting out credits. "Caught in this damned quarantine." Dr. Forn nodded thoughtfully, but stayed silent. Carth decided to see if the doctor knew anything – if there were survivors from the other pods, they might have needed to see a doctor when the landed. "Must be something real important down here if the Sith are going to seal off the whole planet."

The momentary panicked flicker of his eyes towards the closed door across the room gave it away. "Must be," the doctor said noncommittally, neither agreeing nor disagreeing in order to avoid implying knowledge, but Carth was already gone. "Hey!"  
Dr. Forn shouted as Carth began to tinker with the lock, "That area is restricted, you can't –"

Ilithia looked up from handing credits over to the doctor's assistant in time to see the doors sliding back, revealing a roomful of bacta tanks – with wounded Republic soldiers inside. The doctor continued yelling at Carth, who was walking slowly into the room, pausing to take a long look at each soldier's face. "I know these men," he finally said, turning back to look at Dr. Forn.

"You – you know them?" Anger faded, replaced by caution. "Who are you?"

"Friends of the Republic," Ilithia called out. Cryptic, but she wasn't about to tell the doctor their names.

Dr. Forn came alongside Carth, joining him in front of a soldier with a deep stab wound in his chest. "Since the space battle overhead, people have been secretly bringing in these Republic soldiers who crash landed on the planet; at least, those soldiers who were not killed outright when their escape pods landed, either by the impact, the Sith, or the rakghouls." He took a deep breath, looking around at the other wounded men and women in the surrounding tanks. "Most of them will die."

"But at least they'll have spent their last few days in compassionate hands," Carth countered, his eyes glazed over as if gazing past the bacta tanks at a different image of defeat and death. "For that you have my thanks." The memory held his attention until the prickly sensation of being stared at by Ilithia forced him back into the present moment. _She'll never stop pestering me with questions if I keep this up._

"Dr. Forn, excuse me," she ventured. "But you said something about 'rakghouls'?" The doctor nodded curtly. "What are they?"

He tuned and led her back into the main facility. "They are horrible monsters that live in the Undercity of Taris." Carth followed silently as Dr. Forn punched a few buttons on a nearby data console. "Prolonged exposure to the Undercity breeds the disease and those infected will eventually mutate into rakghouls, becoming mindless beasts that feed on the flesh of others, infecting them with their bite."

One glance at the image that flashed onto the screen was enough for Ilithia – she blanched and quickly looked away. "Is there a cure?" she spat, revulsion dripping from her words. Carth stepped up to the console, wincing at the same picture Ilithia had seen, but began to read the description of the disease.

"I heard the Republic scientists at the military base here on Taris were close to perfecting a cure," Dr. Forn said cautiously. "Then the Sith arrived, overrunning the military base and refusing to allow anyone access to the laboratories inside. What serum they have they are keeping for the patrols they send into the Undercity."

Carth's head whipped around. "Patrols? In the Undercity?" The doctor nodded slowly, suddenly understanding the source of his guests' interest in the escape pods. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Forn," Carth quickly replied, "But we need to get going."

_If the Sith are patrolling the Undercity they may have already captured Bastila…_ "Yes, thank you," Ilithia said hurriedly, trying to match Carth's near-sprint for the door – and slamming uncomfortably into the suddenly halted pilot.

The assistant she'd taken the medpacs from had him by the elbow. "I've got an offer for you that you might want to hear," he whispered, glancing furtively at Dr. Forn, who was slipping back into the side room containing the wounded soldiers.

"An offer?" Carth glanced back at Ilithia, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Davik Kang will pay you ten times what Zelka can if you can get the cure," the assistant said quietly, trying to give Carth a conspiratorial grin.

Ilithia shoved her way into the conversation. "Davik Kang? Who's that?"

The assistant laughed. "Oh, come on – everybody knows who Davik Kang is! He's the big boss around here. Gambling, smuggling, extortion – he's got a piece of all the action on Taris."

"The thug-in-chief," Carth growled, narrowing his eyes to give the assistant the same look he'd given the picture of a rakghoul. "Probably a member of the Exchange, too."

Ilithia nodded. "I think I'd rather give the serum to Zelka," she said casually, moving towards the exit. "He'll use it to help people."

"Helping people is all well and good," the assistant said quickly, sliding over to block her path to the door, "But you've got to help yourself first, right?"

Carth wanted very much to show this backstabbing thug just what sort of self-help he was best at, but starting a fight could draw the Sith's attention back to the doctor. "And then only the rich could afford the cure," he snarled, contenting himself with a nasty glare. "Just let the poor suffer, right?"

The assistant ignored Carth, focusing his words on the neutral expression Ilithia wore. "I'm telling you Davik will pay big credits for the cure. More than Zelka could ever afford." She sniffed, then started to walk past him, clearly finished with the conversation. He reached out to hold her by the arm. "If you find the rakghoul serum –"

The moment she felt his touch Ilithia whirled around, shoving the assistant against a wall and bending the offending arm behind his back, pulling it into a painful angle. "Touch me or speak to me again and you'll be the one needing the serum," she hissed menacingly, bruising one of his legs with her knee for good measure before releasing him. She turned and stalked out into the Upper City; Carth, after pausing long enough to give the assistant his own threatening look, followed.

He had to speed up into a trot for a few steps to catch up with Ilithia. "Disgusting," she spat once she heard him come alongside. "Rakghoul disease preys upon the weakest and most vulnerable citizens on Taris and that…that worm wanted us to sell the serum that could cure it to a gangster so he can get even richer!" Her face was set into one of the nastiest scowls Carth could ever remember seeing.

"I take it we won't be doing that," Carth said, surveying her carefully as the redness in her cheeks faded slightly. _That guy was a slimeball, and what he suggested was repulsive, but why is she so upset?_

"No," she replied. "Zelka's taking an awful risk to treat those soldiers. One unsolicited act of kindness deserves another." A look of mild surprise was Carth's only reply. "Oh come on," she snorted, "I may be touchy and annoying but I'm not heartless. Would I have agreed to help you find Bastila if I was?"

"Yes," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Rescuing Bastila is in your self-interest because she'll be obligated to help get you off this planet." He changed direction, turning towards the passageway to the northern part of the Upper City.

"Whatever," she sighed, rolling her eyes. _Git_. "If I –"

A sudden shout from an elderly man near the passageway drew their attention. "Help! Somebody, please help me!" Two distinctly thuggish-looking figures, one man and an Aqualish, had him backed into a corner.

The human glanced over at Ilithia and Carth. "This doesn't concern you," he growled. "Move along."

"Davik doesn't like witnesses," his companion tried to whisper in Huttese.

_Davik…_ Ilithia's face darkened.

"I can pay you 50 credits – that's half!" the old man cried, staring past the thugs to plead silently with the two passers-by.

Ilithia dropped one hand to rest lightly on the hilt of her vibroblade. "I think this does concern us."

"It does?" Carth whispered uncertainly. "I don't want to just let them drag this guy off, but would the attention from the Sith patrols and Davik be worth it?"

Ilithia casually slid her vibroblade out of its sheath. "Yes," she said in a _shut-up-and-do-what-I-say-soldier_ voice she didn't know she had. _Though at this rate our profile's not going to be any lower than the traffic lanes on Coruscant._ "This does concern us."

_Yes ma'am_. Carth grinned as he reached for his blasters. "You heard the lady," he called out at the human thug. "Leave that guy alone."

"Guess we have to teach you to mind your own busi –" Ilithia's blade didn't give the Aqualish a chance to finish his threat. Carth's blasters made short work of the human, leaving them both standing in front of the trembling old man.

"Now I can't pay him back!" the man wailed after a few moments of staring silently at the two bodies. "It's not good to owe a crime lord money. He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead!"

Ilithia shot Carth an almost apologetic glance. "Maybe I can help you with that," she said gently.

The man shook his head sadly. "Unless you have a spare 100 credits to give me so I can pay off Davik, you've already done all you can."

"Here's 100 credits," Ilithia said, plunging her hand into her pack and producing a handful. "Take them."

"You're giving me a hundred credits? Just like that?" He reached out reverently to take them. "I…I don't know what to say! Thank you! Thank you!" Ilithia looked away, embarrassed, as tears began to form in the old man's eyes. "You've saved my life! Thank you! I better take these credits to Davik right away!"

Carth watched the man hurry off into the passageway, then turned to Ilithia. "That was…generous." She slung her pack back over her shoulder and started into the passageway herself. "So whatever happened to not attracting attention?" he asked lightly.

She threw a glare back over his shoulder at the distant, unmoving forms. "We shouldn't be attracting attention unnecessarily," she replied, keeping her voice calm. "That was necessary."

"And why is that?"

Ilithia threw him an _are-you-blind?_ glare. "An old man was about to get worked over because he was 50 credits short on a debt to a gangster who's already on my hate list – remember Dia?"

_The girl with the bounty on her head because she told one of Davik's men exactly where his wandering hands should wander off to_… "Right." The North city began to come into view, with a layout similar to the South city – apartments, a shop, and a long passageway leading to the Sith base. "We still need to figure out how to get down to the Lower City," he said, squinting in the bright sunlight. "The elevator's right by the Sith base, so I imagine it's guarded."

"Well, we could play dress-up with some Sith armor and see if they're stupid enough to fall for it," Ilithia suggested with a shrug. "If they asked us for identification papers we'd be screwed, but I don't know how we could even find forged papers, let alone how much they'd cost."

Carth sighed. "It's not the world's greatest idea, but it's all I can think of, too." He glanced around at the Sith patrols striding down the promenade – they were usually in groups of three, but a group of two was coming out of the apartment building. "Should we go back to the cantina and chat up the drunk Sith there?"

"I repeat: I'd rather flirt with a drooling Bomar." She followed Carth's gaze over towards the apartments. "I say we go straight to the best source. Dead Sith." She began walking towards the apartment building without waiting to see if Carth agreed.

_She's rather…eager for a fight_, he thought worriedly, hurrying after her. _First the dueling ring, then the doctor's assistant, the thugs, and now the Sith_. It was a good idea, though – "If we can catch another patrol like the one in the South Apartments we can get what we need and do it quietly and privately," he mused, catching up to her. "Nice." She nodded, maintaining her pace. "Ilithia…" he started hesitantly, "Can I ask you –"

"No."

They reached the doors to the building, but the elevator was not there. "But you didn't even hear my question," Carth sputtered, pressing the call button.

"I don't care what your question is," she snapped. "I'm not going to answer it until you answer some of mine."

_Oh, for the love of…_ "Is this really necessary?"

"Since I'm going to have to put up with you for the foreseeable future, yes, they are," Ilithia sighed. _It won't stop him from being a pain, but at least he won't be a mystery_.

_Who's putting up with whom here?_ "Well, if it's an interrogation you wanted, why didn't you say so?" Carth muttered – the way she was going, she probably could teach the Sith torture droids a thing or two.

To his surprise, instead of scowling or coming up with a nasty reply, Ilithia started laughing, shaking her head side to side. "Excellent!" she cried with gently mocking glee. A soft chime sounded, and the doors slid back to let them step into the elevator. "Soon all your secrets will be mine!"

He couldn't help it; he laughed, too. _She may be stubborn and annoying, but at least she's not boring_. "All my secrets are purely of the mundane variety. Nothing worth extracting…though you're welcome to try," he added, flashing another flirtatious grin her way as he pressed a button for a random floor.

_Did somebody put Corellian Fly in his firewhiskey or what?_ "A girl's got to do something to keep herself entertained." The elevator began to rise.

Carth laughed again. _She's fun_. "What, the Sith, these rakghouls, swoop gangs, and crime lords wouldn't be enough?"

She shook her head, chuckling. "They can't compare to the thrilling near-death experience of sharing an escape pod with you." The laugh she expected in response didn't come; instead, Carth a sad and haunted look fell over his face. _Oh, damn…_ He looked ten years older than he probably was, and very, very tired. She opened her mouth to apologize, but another chime sounded, and the elevator doors opened, revealing a curving hallway dotted with closed doors.

They started checking out each apartment, picking up any spare credits or medpacs the residents might have left out in the open. _I hate stealing, but we need this stuff more than they do. We'll use them to do good things_, Ilithia told herself; a rationalization bolstered when she made yet another generous donation of credits to someone in trouble with Davik.

"Where did you hide those Sith uniforms? Did you sell them to the Tarisian underground? Start talking – I want answers!"

Carth and Ilithia traded grins, moving swiftly towards the source of those words.

"Please – I'm only a visitor to Taris, trapped here by your quarantine." One Sith stood guard in the hall, in front of the open apartment door. "I know nothing about the Tarisian underground or your missing Sith uniforms!"

A quick glance over the guard's shoulder revealed two additional Sith and an Aqualish in the room. "What's going on in there?" Ilithia asked casually.

"You're a little too curious for your own good, civilian!" the guard snarled in reply. "This doesn't concern you!"

"Oh, but it does," Carth chirped, smiling.

The voice they'd heard interrogating the Aqualish spoke again. "I'm getting sick of your lies, you alien scum! We've got your ugly mug on a security tape from the base! Start talking before I splatter your all over this room!"

"Uh-oh," the guard said, glancing behind him. "It took me an hour to clean the blood stains from my uniform after the last interrogation."

"Well, then, I guess we just need to put a stop to this interrogation right now," Ilithia said cheerfully. "Save you the trouble." She wished the helmets didn't have opaque visors covering their wearer's face; she really wanted to see if the guard's mouth was hanging open in surprise.

The first Sith – the commander – turned away from the prisoner and took a step towards the hall. "What was that?"

"We're not going to let you kill a defenseless prisoner," Carth announced, drawing his blasters.

The commander laughed. "You won't 'let' us kill him? I suppose you'll have to let us teach you the penalty for defying the Sith."

"What penalty?" Ilithia inquired as the guard's body slid off her vibroblade and hit the floor. The commander barely had time to raise his sword before joining his subordinate. She thought for a moment that the third Sith was going to throw down his blaster and surrender – _interesting moral dillemma, that_ – but he opened fire, singing her combat suit before he, too, fell to the ground, dead.

The prisoner blinked in surprise at the sudden change in his circumstances. "Thank you, human," he said in Huttese. "The Sith would have killed me…of that I am certain."

"You're welcome," Ilithia said, gazing at the dead Sith. "Carth, do you think you can fit into the commander's uniform?" He knelt down and pondered the length of the commander's arm for a moment before giving her a nod. "I'm going to take this one," she told the prisoner, gesturing at the nearby corpse of the third Sith, "So if you are in the uniform-stealing business that third one out in the hall is all yours."

Another surprised expression filled the prisoner's large eyes. "If you wish to strike another blow against the Sith you would be wise to journey to the Lower City and speak with Gadon Thek, the leader of the Hidden Beks," he said solemnly, before turning and walking over to the guard's body.

_Oookay…_Ilithia knelt down and began the work of de-armoring her dead Sith. _Sorry I had to kill you._

Carth had already finished stripping the armor off the commander, so he came over to give Ilithia a hand. "That went pretty well," he mused, unbuckling the fasteners keeping the Sith's chest plate in place.

"Better outcome than the last time," Ilithia replied. She'd pulled off the helmet and was sadly contemplating the acne dotting the far too childlike face that had been inside. _I need to cut this guy a break_, she thought, remembering Carth's similarly sad gaze back in the medical facility. Many of the dead Republic soldiers she'd seen on the _Endar Spire_ had been equally young. _Captain Onasi…that was his ship, his crew_. _All he's got left is a missing Jedi and me_. "You had a question you wanted to ask me?"

"Yea," he sighed, glancing over to see that the Aqualish had already collected the armor and left. _But I'll get back to that question later_. "Let me ask you something about the battle on the _Endar Spire_," he said slowly. "I've been going over it over and over in my head since we crashed, and some things just don't add up for me. Maybe you could tell me what happened…from your perspective."

Ilithia also checked to make sure they were alone, then shrugged. "I was asleep in my quarters when the battle started, and by the time my roommate came and woke me up the Sith were already on board." She concentrated on pulling off boots, trying not to think about Trask. "I guess everything just went to hell, fast."

"It did," Carth sighed. "It was an ambush. Bastila never got a chance to use her Battle Meditation, and there were just too many Sith troopers and Dark Jedi…fire on all decks…" He closed his eyes, suddenly imagining Ilithia lying on the bridge of a ship, shrapnel piercing every limb, staring up with pale, dying eyes. _I've seen so much death that death is all I ever see._

"I – I'm sorry, Carth," Ilithia whispered. Finished with the armor, she stood. "I know that must have been your ship…your crew."

He shook his head and the image vanished. "I was actually just on board as an advisor, to teach Bastila about military tactics," he said, opening his eyes. "But we still lost the ship and a lot of good people, and for what? On the hope that Jedi powers would save us somehow?"

Carth said the word "Jedi" with such vehemence that Ilithia almost took a step back. "Hey, I'm just surprised that any of us are alive to stand around and talk about it." _Great, now he hates the Jedi too – is there anybody this guy actually likes?_

"Come to think of it, it's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it?" he snapped, standing suddenly and giving her a challenging, suspicious glare. "Just what is your position with the Republic fleet?"

_Not me, obviously_. "I – I was a scout," she stammered. "They recruited me." Carth grunted disbelivingly. "Why?" she added, sharpening her tone. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"Not at all," he replied, in a tone accusing her of a thousand evil deeds. "I just think it's a bit odd that someone who got added to the crew roster at the last minute just happens to be one of the survivors."

Ilithia shook her head and started to walk away. _I'm beginning to wish I hadn't been_. "What's so odd about that?" she muttered.

A strong, rough hand seized her by the arm and spun her back around. "You were the only one," Carth hissed, pulling her close so any passers-by couldn't hear him. "Not to mention that Bastila's party was the one who requested your transfer."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" she snapped, yanking her arm away from him. She'd only been summoned to meet Bastila one time, and had nothing but administrative busywork dumped on her the entire time she was on the _Endar Spire_. _They never even gave me a uniform_. Carth started to say something else, but changed his mind and contented himself with giving her another doubtful glare. _I'm pretty clearly a random nobody - what is his problem!?_ "Are you always this suspicious or did I win some sort of lottery of misfortune? Get blown up, land on a Sith planet, and get stuck with you?"

Carth sighed, shaking his head. "Look…it has nothing to do with you personally. I just don't trust anyone."

"Oh, really." Ilithia put on a skeptical frown of her own. "And why is that?"

"I have my reasons; and no, I'm not going to discuss them," he said flatly, walking past her and picking up his armor-stuffed pack. "So can we just keep our mind on more important things?" he called out over his shoulder.

She stared at the armor scattered on the floor in frustration. Prolonged conversation with anyone other than herself was usually something she avoided. Scouting was a solitary profession; even planetside. Most scouts kept to themselves, easily spending all night in the cantina without saying two words to anyone. And playing shrink while dodging Sith and hunting for a Jedi was most assuredly not in her enlistment contract. But as she studied the tight set of his shoulders she found herself saying "I consider this important."

_Huh?_ He turned back around. She was mad, certainly, but the anger in her expression had been replaced by the same concern she'd shown earlier. A somewhat detached, curious form of concern, but it was genuine nonetheless. _Why would she want to know – why would she care?_

She saw his anger wavering and smiled. "Remember, I do have to keep myself entertained."

"Alright alright," Carth exclaimed, laughing. "You must be the most damned persistent woman I've ever met!"

"You surrender, then?" she asked, breaking into a mocking grin.

Carth raised one arm in capitulation. "We'll talk about it – later."

"Fair enough." Ilithia sighed, kneeling and shoving the armor into her pack. "I don't suppose we've got time to get these uniforms laundered, do we?"

"We'll rip them off as soon as we get down," Carth reassured her. "Let's go find these Hidden Beks."

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"I'm still not comfortable with the idea of bounty hunting to make some extra credits," Carth grumbled, sliding into a booth in the Upper City cantina. "You did pretty well dueling – that should keep us for a couple of days." _Even if your bleeding heart continues to pour credits into the hands of every hard-luck case we meet. _

Ilithia reached for the dinner menus the waitress had placed on the table. "Hey, Selven and Matrik attacked us." The ambience had been better in the Lower City cantina – a triple murder just as soon as they walked in the door – but the danger of food poisoning drove them back to the surface. Gadon Thek had promised to help them rescue Bastila, who was offered up as the prize in a swoop race, for the favor of breaking into a rival swoop gang's base to "retrieve" the Hidden Bek's stolen prototype accelerator. Nausea and dehydration would not help. "If somebody wants to pay me for saving my own butt from paranoid lunatics," she continued, shooting a pointed glance at her self-confessed paranoid companion, "I'm not going to say no."

"I may be paranoid, but I'm not going to do anything stupid," Carth snapped. "Selven hacked us up pretty good before you got her – and the rest are bound to be just as bad!"

She made a face. "That's sweet, Carth, I didn't know you cared."

He spluttered, blushing. "That's – that's not what I meant. I don't fancy dying any more than the next man, and I sure as hell don't plan on dying here and now while Saul's still out there!"

"Saul? Who's Saul?"

A panicked look spread over Carth's face. _Why do I keep blurting this stuff out around her?_ "No one. Never mind…forget I said anything." He snatched up the second menu and began studying it like his life depended on memorizing its contents.

Ilithia tossed her menu down. "Does this 'Saul' have a last name?"

"If your last name isn't worth saying, then neither is his," Carth growled.

She rolled her eyes. _If this is the source of the burr up his butt I'm going to feed him to a rancor_. "Carth… 'Ilithia' isn't half a name, it is my name. Just…Ilithia." Carth flushed, embarrassed, setting his menu down. "I'm from Deralia – we don't have family names there."

"Oh," he mumbled. _You're really on a roll today, Onasi_. "I thought you were being obstinate since I wouldn't answer your question about me." She shook her head in amusement. "Sorry."

"If it's obstinate you want, just keep ending conversations before I've got all my answers," she shot back, but without any real anger – in fact, she was having trouble not laughing.

Carth smiled. "Let's even out the score first – got a nickname I can use, or do I have to say that whole thing every time?"

Ilithia raised her eyebrows in surprise. _Breaking out the charm to throw me off track, again_. "There was this one time a random Republic officer buying me drinks on Coruscant got cute and called me 'Thia'."

She said the name with enough distaste for Carth to guess the ending. "And how much time did he spend in the hospital?"

"No time at all," she said innocently. "I just made sure he spent the night alone."

Carth winced and laughed at the same time. "Come on, be nice to the soldier boys – we need all the charity we can get." Ilithia raised one eyebrow even higher, tilting her head to give him a very uncharitable look. "Ilithia it is," he said in mock solemnity, saluting her with his ale. "So…I told you why I'm here – my homeworld…" He took a long pull from his drink, shaking his head as if that would drive the memories away. "Why are you here? I mean, the Republic wanted you for your skills as a scout, but why did you say yes?"

"I'm not really sure," she said slowly. She could only remember a few details from the last few weeks – _head trauma sucks_. "Most immediately, because the smuggler I was scouting for fell behind on his payments to the Hutts and found his ship – and himself – decommissioned. Permanently," she added, scowling. "I decided to take the hint and find a more respectable way to get myself killed."

"Hence your dislike of gangsters using lethal force to collect on small debts," Carth observed.

She chuckled. "Don't think too highly of me just yet – I didn't lift a finger to help Hal out, and I could have. But the Hutts are, well…more difficult than your local thug, and Hal's debt wasn't small." Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, carrying her ale with her. "I could say I'm inspired to save the Republic, crush the evil Sith, justice, peace – which I am. Now," she added, sipping her ale. "But I also want to find out what happened to my brother after the Mandalorian Wars ended. And this is the best way I've got left."

He leaned back in his chair, curiosity warring with caution. Curiosity won. "Brother?"

She nodded. "Ilion." Carth's lips formed a silent "o." "Yes," she said, "We mark our family members by giving them similar names. My father was Ilium, and my mother was Sonatia, so both their children's names begin with an element of his name and end with an element of hers."

"What unit was he in?" The name wasn't familiar, but he was better with faces.

"He wasn't a pilot," she said quickly. Carth frowned. "Assault trooper. The last unit I know he was with was called the 'Party Crashers'."

Carth let out a low whistle. The Party Crashers were an elite group of troopers who led the assault on a starship, literally crashing their transports into the ship and then fighting their way to key strategic points like the bridge and the hangar bays to let the main strike force in. The attack on Mandalore's flagship had been their crowning glory. "They were under Revan's personal command, weren't they?"

Ilithia nodded sadly. "I know he survived the final battle – the last message I have from him is dated two days afterwards. But when Revan and Malak disappeared, so did he."

"Do you think he's still with them?" Carth asked as delicately as he could. _She might understand…_

"I think he probably was," she said slowly. "In the beginning, at least. Now after four years of battle, who knows."

He shook his head, sighing. "They've been kicking our butts, not the other way around. If he was good enough to get into the Party Crashers, chances are he's good enough to survive."

She flinched, closing her eyes as an image of the young Jedi on a command deck flashed through her mind. "Revan didn't," she whispered.

"Yea," Carth said shortly. "Not like his death did us much good, though."

"Her."

Carth frowned. "Her?"

"My brother told me," Ilithia said. "Her mask disguised her voice, and her robes obscured her figure; but she took off the mask and the heavy robes when she dueled Mandalore." Carth's eyes widened in surprise – he'd never heard that. "She said he deserved that honor. According to my brother, he was very appreciative of the gesture – for the thirty or so seconds he had left to live."

Carth shook his head, smiling softly. "Revan was a girl…"

"Oh, come on," Ilithia snorted. "As far as shocking revelations go, that's pretty tame." Carth leaned back, laughing – then suddenly fell silent, gazing warily at something behind her. "What?" she asked, twisting around to see what had captured his attention. A full suit of Mandalorian armor was striding through the cantina's crowds, slowly and purposefully approaching their table. The numerous scoring marks from blaster bolts, nicks from blades, and the occasional deliberately overlooked bloodstain identified the man inside. "Bendak," she breathed, turning back around.

"You've already drawn enough attention to –"

Bendak sat the mug of ale he was carrying on the table between Carth and Ilithia with a loud thump – loud because the background chatter that normally filled the cantina was rapidly diminishing. "I've been watching you in the dueling ring. Not bad for an amateur," he drawled.

"Th-thank you," Ilithia said, nervously jerking her head into a semblance of a nod. _What do I call him – Bendak's too familiar – Mr. Starkiller?_ "It wasn't all that hard," she added, reaching for her own ale.

Crackling, metallic laughter came from the duelist's helmet. "Yea, the game got pretty boring after death matches became illegal. I've got no interest in using stun blasters!" The armor shrugged. "There was nobody left to challenge me, anyway." A cold chill began to creep through Ilithia's skin. She glanced over at Carth, but he was staring at Bendak's blaster, mesmerized by the many modifications and upgrades it bore. _Men_. "But I saw you in the ring against Twitch," Bendak continued. "You've got enough talent to make me consider coming out of retirement for one last death match – unless you're afraid to face me."

"Afraid?!" _Oh, no, you didn't…_ "I've never been afraid of anything." That snapped Carth out of his covetous contemplation of Bendak's weaponry – he reached out one hand towards her, but she leaned back, pulling her arms off the table and crossing them over her chest. "Name the time and place. You're on!"

"Finally – fresh meat!" Bendak crowed, picking up his mug. "Ajuur will set it all up." Excited whispers followed him as he made his way through the bar, heading for the duelists' hall. "I'll be back when it's time for you to die!"

Ilithia sighed, reaching again for her drink. "Why do they have to brag so much?" she muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Carth snapped, his face twisted and angry. "A thousand kills to his name, a full suit of Mandalorian armor, a souped-up blaster, and a reckless woman stupid enough to take him up on his challenge?!"

"Well, obviously I shouldn't look for you in my cheering section," she replied testily.

He shook his head vigorously. "No, I didn't mean…" A long, exasperated sigh came from him as he slumped back in his chair. "Why?"

She cocked her head to the side in mock contemplation. "Let's see. One – the credits from the duel. Two – the credits from the bounty. Three – "

"The credits you'll rip from his cold, dead hands when you're done?"

She laughed. "I hadn't thought of that one. So I guess that makes number four the most important reason – the challenge."

He frowned. "The most important reason? So you're going to do this just…because?" _Unbelievable…_

"Why not?" she shrugged. "He's stupid enough to offer me the challenge, and I'm curious enough to see if I can do it."

"You want to see if you can kill him, you mean," Carth said coldly.

Ilithia shook her head. "No, just beat him. I'd rather he didn't have to die to satisfy my curiosity, but he's the sort of scum I won't lose any sleep over killing, so…why not?"

"Because it's wrong!" Carth slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to rattle their drinks, spilling some of the liquid inside. "To take a life just for credits…that's something the Sith would do!" he finished, trying to keep his voice down in the Sith-filled room.

She snatched her ale off the table, glaring. "I would've accepted his challenge even if there were no credits attached, but I'm gratified you think so well of me." Carth made a frustrated noise, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. "It's my life, and therefore my business; not yours."

Carth looked away, sighing, as she put an end to their conversation by flipping up her menu to conceal her face. _Who's won the bad luck lottery now? I got blown up, dropped on a Sith planet, and landed with you, too_. He picked up his own menu. _Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to –_

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The body of the commander of the Undercity Sith patrol slid off Ilithia's sword much like his Lower City colleague's had – slowly, with a sickening scrape of bone on metal, finishing with a heavy thump as it hit the ground. "They must not teach manners in basic training," she smirked, beckoning Mission to help her search the bodies of the commander and his two soldiers for anything worth carrying away.

_She never takes a day off, does she?_ Carth holstered his blasters but decided not to join them, instead keeping an eye out for roaming packs of rakghouls. Not that he minded her _when-all-else-fails-attack_ attitude at the moment – killing Sith was his whole purpose in life at the moment, and rakghouls were even more repulsive than the pictures had led him to believe. Glistening, slimy grey skin, the wrinkled single eye…whatever could be done to spare someone the misfortune of becoming one of those things – or end the suffering of someone who already had – was definitely a good thing.

"No serum," Ilithia grumbled, standing. She looked over at Mission. "So where can we get into the sewers?" She'd exchanged promises with the adolescent blue Twi'lek recommended to them by Gadon – she'd help Mission rescue her Wookieee friend Zaalbar from Gamorrean slavers in the sewers, and then Mission would show Carth and Ilithia a back way into the Black Vulkar base. Which – _just our luck_ – also happened to be in the sewers.

"There's one entrance to the north of here," Mission said, pointing. "And one to the southeast."

Ilithia frowned – rakghouls in both directions. "How about we head south?" she asked Carth. "That way we'll cover about half the area we need to search."

He looked longingly at the seemingly shorter and less-infested path to the north, but shrugged. "If you say – " he turned back towards her, but she and Mission were already several paces away, strolling southward. Sighing, he trudged after them. _Why do I even bother_, he wondered, as the sound of their chatting drifted past his ears. _She's going to do what she wants; I'm just along for the ride._ He tried not to look up at her when he heard her laugh, but his eyes disobeyed, sliding over the silver and green fiber armor she'd picked up in the Lower City. _Not bad for a –_

Just as he was shaking that thought from his head, a small blue head appeared at his elbow. "Hey, Carth? You're a pilot for the Republic, right?"

"Uh, yea," he stammered, surprised. Ilithia continued to march along steadily, unconcerned.

"So tell me," Mission continued excitedly, "How would you rate Taris compared to the other worlds you've seen? Good? Better? Best?"

Carth grimaced. "To be honest…Taris would rate pretty low. The prejudice against aliens, the domination of crime lords and gangs – not a pretty picture." Mission's face scrunched up like she was about to argue with him, but passing the body of yet another dead Outcast seemed to calm her. "There are a lot of worlds that are worse than Taris – but there are a lot that are better than Taris, too," he continued, fixing his eyes firmly on his blasters. "This is no place for a kid to live on her own," he said quietly. _No more…when this is all over, no more_. "Even a kid who's got a Wookieee to look out for her."

"Hey, I ain't no kid!" Mission snapped, stopping in mid-stride to whirl around and jab a finger in Carth's direction, oblivious to the lost look in his eyes. "And I look out for Zaalbar as much as he looks out for me – he's not my babysitter! Geez, I come ask you a question and you give me a lecture!" She crossed her arms over her chest and started to walk away.

"Don't you snap at me, missy!" Carth hurled back, taking a few quick steps to cut Mission's progress off. "You want a lecture? How's this: only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a simple comment." _And cue Ilithia…_

But the humorously insulting comment he expected never came. Carth glanced up to see if she was even listening – _where'd she go?_ He cut off Mission's retort with a wave of his hand, looking in every direction for a speck of red amongst all the grey. East – walls. North – a few rakghouls, and a large, smoking shape that resembled an escape pod. South – more rakghouls, maybe as many as ten – snorting and swiping their claws at a grimacing figure in fiber armor. Even at a hundred yards he could hear her cries as the blows landed, the auburn of her hair joined by the darker rust of blood.

_Oh no…_"Ilithia!" he screamed, sprinting towards her. She was backing up, trying to get to a nearby retaining wall to brace her buckling knees. _Faster…get there…_ Mission's light footsteps grew fainter as he sped forwards. A few rakghouls fell, dead, but the speck of red he was focused on slipped lower. _Hang on Ilithia…_ "Hey!" he yelled, firing a few blaster bolts at the rakghouls. "Hey! Over here!" The rakghouls turned towards the fresh meat. Carth fired off a few more shots. More rakghouls dropped. "You asked for this!" A cry from several yards behind as another rakghoul fell told him Misison had found her range. Two rakghouls were left - then one - then the last one keeled over, hitting the ground next to the collapsed but breathing form of Ilithia.

She was a mess, but as Carth dropped his blasters and took hold of her he could see that her injuries looked worse than they actually were. Most of the blood came from a single slash in her left shoulder, though the numerous wounds on her legs and arms had probably contributed to causing her to faint. The protective paneling in her armor was still intact. He flung his pack on the ground, digging into it for a medpac with one hand while beginning to remove her armor for a better look at her injuries with the other. _No, not again, I won't let this happen again!_

"Is she infected?" Mission asked fearfully over his shoulder.

Carth smiled grimly and shook his head. "I don't think so. You have to be bitten to get infected, and it looks like they just ripped her up with their claws." He injected with a medpac, studying her reaction to the medicine closely. "We should take her back to the healer in the village, just to be sure," Carth said, lifting Ilithia up into his arms.

"No."

He glanced down at his wounded companion, who was stirring and wincing. "You're hurt; you could be infected with the disease."

"I feel fine," she replied flatly, looking around.

"Some comfort that will be to Mission and I when we have to watch you turn into a rakghoul and then put you out of your misery," Carth shot back. "You need healing."

"No," she repeated forcefully, struggling against his grasp. "Just give me some medpacs. We have to keep going."

"The Vulkar base will still be there – we need to take some time to make sure you're OK," he insisted, though he did loosen his grip on her, lowering her legs so she could try to stand.

She sighed and fixed him with a _you-know-I'm-right_ look. "Will Zaalbar still be there?"

Carth chewed his lower lip as she found her balance. She was right – _as usual_ – Zaalbar's situation was no less dire than hers. "Fine. We'll go find Zaalbar – but then we'll get you to that Healer, no matter what." He thrust a handful of medpacs at her. "Use these. I think I saw an antidote kit around here somewhere, too." Ilithia nodded her thanks, jabbing a needle into her leg. "What happened?" he asked softly, glancing over to where Mission was searching through the pockets of a dead Sith soldier.

"I, uh," Ilithia started, blushing with embarrassment, "I saw the Sith corpse and thought he might have some of the rakghoul serum."

"You wouldn't think he'd be dead if he had," Carth countered.

"He wouldn't be a rakghoul, but he died as a human, so it's possible," she retorted, eyes narrowing indignantly. "I only saw five or six rakghouls when I approached – the others were behind the pillars. They just…I just couldn't hold them all off at the same time."

Carth sighed angrily, devoid of all sympathy for Ilithia's getting herself into trouble. "You know –"

"Hey, you guys!" Mission cried joyfully. "Look what I found!" A small set of syringes filled with green liquid glittered in her hand.

Ilithia grinned. "See?" She walked over to the Twi'lek, rolling up one sleeve. "Stick me." She didn't even blink when the needle went in. "OK," she chirped, "Let's go find Zaalbar."

Mission dashed over to a rusty gate in the far corner. "Down we go!" she cried, lowering the gate and disappearing into the darkness beyond.

_This journey gets better and better by the hour_. The ladder was even rustier than the gate, coated in some unidentifiable slimy substance Carth knew he'd have to spend hours scrubbing off his skin. Mission had scrambled ahead to clear a mine blocking the door to the main halls. He reached back to help a still-wobbly Ilithia navigate her way down the ladder, only to have his hand slapped away to moment it touched her arm. "Hey, relax gorgeous, I'm just trying to help."

"I just don't like to be touched," she said flatly, jumping the last few feet to the floor and stalking ahead of him.

"I hadn't noticed," he deadpanned. "You want to talk about it?"

He didn't need to see her face to know she'd rolled her eyes. "Until you don't want to talk about your issues, I'm not saying a word about mine."

"I'm not getting any peace until you've wrung every last detail out of me, am I?"

She brightened. "Nope."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you, I will, but later." She scowled, working herself up to ask another question. "Look, it's a long story," he continued quickly, "Too long for here." She raised an eyebrow skeptically, but appeared to accept the need for the delay. "I'll just say this: I've been betrayed before by people, and I…well, it won't happen again, that's all." A shout and a wave from Mission signaled all was clear. Carth and Ilithia readied their weapons and headed into the passageway. "Why is whether or not I trust you or anyone so damn important to you. Why…why do you even care?"

She tilted her head to one side, surprised by his question. "You know, I'm not sure," she said, her puzzlement growing. "Aside from the obvious desire to avoid having a hole burned into my armor by your eyes."

"I'm not going to stop watching you, or being wary. I'm just not built that way. Period." He tried to glare at her, but the curious concern in her expression kept his anger from rising too high. "So if you want to know why, fine – I'll tell you. But don't waste your time waiting for me to trust you. It's not going to happen." He turned and stalked away – right into the arms of a Gamorrean patrol. Thankfully Gamorreans were as weak as they were large; a few quick shots brought them down.

The three moved rapidly through the sewers. Rakghouls and Gamorreans lurked in many of the rooms, but not in numbers large enough to give them any trouble. As they approached the northern edge of the halls, Mission called Carth and Ilithia over to a strange-looking door. "This is one of those old style manual locks. No computer codes or nothing. The sewers is the only place you'll see one of these on Taris."

"Conventional security spikes won't work on that," Ilithia muttered. "Can we break it down?"

"Oh, don't worry," Mission said cheerfully, digging around in her pack. "I've come across them before, so I've rigged up a little device that should do the trick." She stepped up to the lock and started attaching wires to either side of the mechanism.

Ilithia took a few steps back until she came alongside Carth. "Look, I, uh…I know I shouldn't react the way I do to the incidental, meaningless stuff. Like with you there on the ladder – you were just trying to help, I know that," she said guiltily. _He saved my life – the least I owe him is to try to be nice_. "I'm sorry."

_Where is this coming from?_ "No, no apology necessary, I understand," he said quickly, hoping another dose of charm would keep her from demanding similar words from him. "Just try not to hit me so hard the next time I touch you, okay beautiful?"

"That depends what kind of touch we're talking about, 'handsome,'" she shot back.

"Oh, I don't know," Carth grinned. "Some touches are better than others."

Ilithia shot him another _I-don't-believe-you-just-said-that_ look. "I wouldn't know what you're talking about," she said flatly.

"No?" he asked jokingly – then suddenly froze, remembering what she'd said about honesty. "You wouldn't know?" he repeated, feeling like an ass.

She rolled her eyes. "No."

"Not ever?"

"No," she intoned, turning away from that conversation to stare intently at the still-locked door. "I wonder what's behind there?" she asked flatly.

"A unicorn?" Carth ventured, grinning. _It's wrong, I know, but I can't help it. She's so cute when she's mad._

Ilithia's patented scowl returned. "That threat against your ears still stands, you know."

_Wait a minute – did I just think 'she's cute'?_ "Sorry," he said quickly. _A prickly thing like – _

The door slid open. In the room beyond, a Wookieee roared.

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They elected to stay overnight in the Outcast village; in gratitude for helping some villagers infected with the rakghoul disease the village leader, Gendar, found them some relatively private and comfortable accomodations, and despite being doped up with medpacs Ilithia didn't want to risk journeying all the way back to the Upper City. She'd struggled to keep a grimace off her face when she tasted the food the Outcasts offered them – _because I got used to such gourmet fare in the enlisted crewmembers mess on the Endar Spire_ – but their generosity with the little they had was…_well, touching. It's easy to be generous with credits when you have plenty – dividing up half of nothing with strangers is a level of grace I can never aspire to reach_.

No matter how long she lay with her eyes closed the swirling drowsiness that preceded sleep wasn't coming. A damp chill had settled on her skin, and the echoes of howling rakghouls carried that chill deep into her already aching bones. Sighing, she sat up, then slowly stood, each joint creaking as it moved. _When did I start to feel old?_ she wondered, taking a few steps out of the tent and into the open space of the village.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She stopped, but didn't turn around to face Carth. "For a walk."

"Really?" he mused. "Where?"

"Just…around," she replied, shrugging.

He came up to her quickly, suspicion in his eyes. "You weren't thinking of going 'outside', now, were you?"

_Wha…_ "No," she snapped. "But now that you mention it, I haven't found out what happened to that old man's apprentice yet." She tightened a few of the fasteners on her armor, flashing Carth a smile. "Wanna come?"

"We can do that in the morning before we head for the Vulkar base – all four of us. Together," he growled.

"Spoilsport." She moved to pass by him, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "What?" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"This has to stop, Ilithia," he said gently, moving closer to her. "Charging off recklessly like that…you've got to stop."

She sidestepped him, stalking back towards the tent. "Don't patronize me," she hissed.

"I'm not trying to patronize you," he replied, a little less calmly than before.

Ilithia ducked under the tent's outer flap. "I'm not some zit-faced teenage recruit who can't spell the word Sith, let alone fight one." She threw herself back down onto her mattress. "I can take care of myself."

"You didn't today," he shot back, lightly seating himself on the unused mattress next to hers. She flushed, scowling, but said nothing. "It's not just your life anymore," he continued, taking the opening her silence gave him. "Mission trusts you, Zaalbar's put his life in your hands, Bastila still needs our help, and I'm stuck with you no matter what." He reached out a reassuring hand to touch her on the arm, but she scooted back out of his reach. "That's why you have to stop running around, looking for a fight – what you do now matters to all of us, too." She sighed, softening her expression to a frown. "Besides, isn't two or three or four always better than one?"

"No," she squeaked. "But – I know…" She heaved another sigh, shaking her head. "I just – I've never had to worry about anybody else but me."

_With your figure?_ "I find that hard to believe," Carth smirked. _You were probably beating them off with a stick before you realized having an attitude would do the trick._

She snorted. "Maybe you should try a little harder."

"I meant that as a compliment," he snapped angrily, jumping up off the mattress. "But I guess you're not used to those, either." He wheeled around and started walking away.

"No, Carth…" she called after him. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry, Carth; I'm trying, but this whole working-with-others thing is pretty new to me." Now he turned back towards her, but despite the softening expression on his face he did not raise his eyes to look at her. "If you understand nothing else about me," she continued, staring at her hands, "Understand that I'm used to being alone."

"So am I." He felt rather than saw her fix him with another inquisitive gaze; the patterns of dirt on the floor suddenly became fascinating. "You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met. You've saved my butt more than once, and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question. But I need you to focus that skill on what we're doing. You don't have to be my friend, and I don't have to be yours – but we do need to look out for each other."

Ilithia chuckled. "You're actually going to have to answer some of my questions before being friends is even a possibility, so don't worry about that." She stood, flexing her sore muscles.

Carth laughed, shaking his head. _She never gives up, does she?_ "I will, I promise." Her eyes locked onto his with an uncomfortable earnestness. "Just not yet." She frowned, disappointed, and looked away. "But if you're going to ask personal questions for no apparent reason, maybe I should too," he added, forcing a smile.

"The touching thing?" she asked flatly. "I wasn't on the receiving end of much affection as a child – none from anything resembling a parent, at least – so as an adult I've developed issues with physical and emotional intimacy. How's that sound?"

He laughed again. _Typical psycho-babble – it all goes back to the parents_. "What were you," he asked jokingly, "Some kind of orphan?" Ilithia immediately took a step towards him, anger rising in her eyes – _oh, hell, she was_ – "I've just made an incredible ass of myself," he stammered, "I'm sor –"

"I'm fine," she hissed. "You are an ass but it's not going to bother me. Mission, on the other hand," she said, glancing over at an adjacent tent, "Might be upset, so keep your voice down!"

"Mission? – oh," he said, dropping his voice to a chastised whisper. "Sorry." She shook her head and beckoned him back into their tent. "Remind me to always take you seriously," he said, flopping back down onto his mattress.

She sighed, annoyed, but not angry. "It's not a question of seriousness, Carth, it's a question of honesty. I expect not to be lied to; so I'm honest with you in return."

Carth nodded pensively. "Okay." Another few moments passed in silence before he sprouted a mischievous grin. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Oh, for – " She broke off, laughing and sighing at the same time. _He's quick; I'll give him that_. "Fair enough," she said returning the grin. "But not yet."

He laughed, shrugging in acceptance. "Alright," he said, lying down on the mattress, "But before I let you off the hook – for now – you have to promise me that you'll be more careful with yourself from now on."

Ilithia blinked and looked away from Carth's insistent gaze. _A promise…he can't know what he's asking. _

She jumped convulsively at the feel of a hand touching one of hers. "You really aren't used to that," the dark-haired, brown-eyed, infuriatingly evasive and intriguing owner of the hand mused.

"No," replied, shuddering, but she fought back the urge to slap his hand away. _Get a grip on yourself, Ilithia_. She didn't want to admit that running off after the rakghouls had been a bad idea, but her focus on the attack had blinded her to the other rakghouls off to the side. And Matrik…she'd been perfectly happy at the time to defend herself with lethal force, but when she collected the bounty she'd learned he was in hiding because he had informed on Davik and the Exchange - exactly the kind of person she wanted to help. Had been helping – but she'd killed him without a second thought.

The intense, almost deadly solemnity returned to her eyes with such force that Carth shifted a few inches further away from Ilithia. "Okay," she said shakily. "I promise I will be more careful – with myself and with all of you."

"Thank you," he replied gently. She just nodded and sighed deeply in response. "Now," he continued, pulling all of her hand into his grasp, "Let's try to get some sleep."

"O – okay," she stammered. _That feels so…warm_. "I can't say I'll actually sleep, but I'll try," she added.

He frowned. "Why not?"

She pulled her hand away and stretched herself out on her mattress, wrapping the lone patchwork blanket she had around her. "Because it's fragging cold down here, that's why."

"Oh – well, there's one way I could, ah, try to help you with that." He moved towards her, arms outstretched.

She jerked both hands up to stop him. "That's not – no, thank you."

"Alright," he said, pulling back. "Well, uh…here, then," he finished, grabbing at the equally patchwork and threadbare blanket he'd been given and draping it over her.

"Carth," she breathed as the blanket fluttered down onto her, "You don't have to do that. You must be just as cold as I am."

He was, but he wasn't about to let her know that. "I'm a soldier," he grunted. "I'm used to being too hot, too cold, anything."

_Liar…but thanks_. "If you say so," she said, tucking the second blanket in around the first. "Let me know if you need it back."

The grateful smile she wore warmed him all the way down to his toes. "I will." _I won't._

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The Hidden Beks had ordered several kegs of Taris's second-class ale to celebrate the recovery of the accelerator and the one-day decimation of the Black Vulkar's membership. It wasn't nearly as good as the clear, pricey stuff, but still packed quite a wallop, Carth reflected, as little lights began to dance before his eyes. _Thirty-six hours without sleep, a handful of ration packs, nearly constant combat, and an exasperating woman who doesn't stop asking questions. Great time to get drunk, Onasi._

Where had Ilithia gone to, anyway, he suddenly wondered. He shooed away the Twi'lek dancer who'd been trying to catch his arm, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her. She'd had just as little rest as he – _I hope she can hold her liquor_.

_Don't be such an old man_, another voice in his head snapped. _She was fine in the cantinas, she'll be fine here. What do you care, anyhow?_

"The key to winning a swoop race is to not let them see just how fast you are the first time out," Gadon was saying. An auburn ponytail nodded. "Play it soft the first time, miss a few of the acceleration ramps – aim for about forty seconds on the first run. Then on the second run, go out and shut them all down."

Carth downed the rest of his ale. _Oh, right…the swoop race…Bastila_. He sagged against the makeshift bar, forcing his blurring eyes to focus on Ilithia.

She bore the semi-vacant smile of intoxication on her face, too, but still seemed distant from everything around her. A number of Hidden Beks were crowding around her, offering her food and drink, but she was content to sip from her own ale, declining each offer politely but firmly. Gadon shooed the younger men away, leaning down to whisper something into her ear. She laughed, nodding and moving away alongside him.

_You keep your hands off her, you_…Carth felt his fists clench. "Another ale," he snapped at the Rodian serving as bartender, who quickly slid one over from rows of pre-poured mugs. Taking a long pull, Carth scowled at the empty space where Ilithia had been.

"Are you sure you should be having that?" a soft voice asked.

Her eyes always did him in. He'd expected them to be green, or maybe brown, but he was never prepared for the luminous gray now staring back at him. It had taken him a few seconds to remember to breathe when she'd regained consciousness back in the apartment, all his concern for her health evaporating as she blinked and raised her eyes to meet his. He stole a few seconds to study their color whenever they'd paused to rest – whenever he thought he wouldn't be caught looking – eventually settling on "Corellian mist" as an accurate description. Normally they reflected Ilithia's perpetual state of exasperated amusement, but now they were full of warmth and concern, focused solely on him. _Beautiful…_

He could pretend to ignore it when she hid her figure beneath armor – even that clingy fiber armor she'd taken a liking to – but the slim squareness of her shoulders and the curve of her hips was making his head spin faster than the ale. Resourceful, intelligent, brave, strong, stubborn…she annoyed the living Force out of him, but he loved every moment of it. Understanding coursed through him like lightening. _I want her for myself._

A hand cautiously alighted on his arm. Carth nearly jumped out of his clothes – _she's never touched me before_. "I'll finish it for you," she slurred, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"No way, gorgeous," he said, leaning close in to her grinning wickedly. _If it's trouble I want…_ "I always finish what I start."

"Oh?" she responded playfully. "Is that a promise?"

He bent down even closer to her, dropping his voice to a throaty rumble. "Do you want it to be?"

An eyebrow arched in surprise. _Is he serious?_ "Depends…are your intentions honorable?"

"Absolutely not," Carth growled.

The spark of lust in his eyes sent a delicious shiver down Ilithia's spine. _What has gotten into him?_ "Problem is, I have this funny thing about promises," she drawled, tracing one finger lightly down the seam of his sleeve. _What's getting into me?_ She raised her eyes to meet his. "I expect them to be kept."

It was Carth's turn to shudder. The same earnestness and intensity that had colored her promise in the Outcast village shone through her eyes again. _She's not kidding._ But the tantalizing, devilish challenge in her eyes was too much. "I promise I won't disappoint you…in any way." _Neither am I_.

"Ahem"

Carth and Ilithia sprang apart. The multi-colored Twi'lek who guarded Gadon like a kinrath guarded its nest had come up alongside, glancing suspiciously from one to the other before settling her gaze on Ilithia. "You have to be down at the swoop track early, so Gadon asked me to show you to your room."

"Oh, ah, alright," Ilithia stammered. She drained her ale in a single gulp, then looked nervously at Carth. "I, uh, I guess I'll see you later."

He slammed his just-emptied mug onto the counter beside hers. "I think I'm done for tonight," he said, nodding at the Twi'lek.

"This way," she said curtly, marching off. She led them down one corridor, then another, and around several dark turns before halting abruptly in front of a small, dingy door. "You can meet our swoop bike technicians down at the track any time after ten in the morning," she informed Ilithia, pressing a panel to open the door.

"Thank you," Ilithia replied, stepping into a cramped sitting room. The bodyguard hurried away. "Well, it's not so bad," she called out to Carth, who had passed by the threadbare chairs and outdated holovid without a second glance. She waited for a sarcastic comeback, but none came. Looking up she saw Carth just standing still at the doorway to the bedroom, frowning. "Don't tell me I'm losing my ability to annoy you; I've got nothing else to do for entertainment."

Carth gestured towards the inside of the sleeping chamber. "I, uh, think the Hidden Beks made an…assumption." He ran a hand through his hair to hide the blossoming blush on his face. "About you and I."

"What sort of –" Ilithia fell silent, mouth open, when she poked her head into the bedroom. There was just one bed, barely large enough for two. The sheets shimmered even in the low, artificial light. A panel atop one of the nightstands had a credit-sized slot and a button labeled "To Vibrate". "Oh," Ilithia finally said, walking over to run a finger along the edge of the vibration controls. "That kind of assumption."

Carth followed, sitting down on the foot of the bed. "They probably don't see many men and women working together who aren't, uh, friendly," he said thickly, wincing at the clumsiness of his words. "Like this – well, that." He watched her shake her head, laughing. "At least the floor looks comfortable," he mumbled.

"No, no, Carth, I'm not buying that macho act tonight – you're just as beat up as I am," she said, walking over the other side of the bed. "You stay over there, I'll stay over here." She dropped her pack on the floor and began unfastening her fiber armor.

He tried to ignore the return of the warm tingle he'd felt earlier. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, tossing an energy shield onto her pack. "If you can behave yourself," she smirked, "Then I'll be fine."

"Behaving is overrated," he slurred, slowly taking his jacket off. She was already out of her armor and slipping out of the clothing underneath…_wow…I didn't know Republic-issued bodysuits were that…revealing_. The warm tingle began to solidify into a full-blown rush.

Finished, she hopped into the bed, yanking a sheet over her partially-clothed body. "So is sleeping," she murmured, before rolling onto her side and closing her eyes.

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Carth woke to the muffled rumble of an explosion and the sharp metallic bark of blasters. _Must be the Sith – time to rumble!_ He put one foot onto the floor, reaching for his equipment, when a hand grabbed the back of his bodysuit and pulled him back into the bed.

"Relax," muttered Ilithia, who was sitting upright with her eyes closed. "It's in another block of the Lower City. Probably the swoop gangs' nightly brawl."

"How can you be sure?" he asked; but he did drop his blasters and slide back under the sheets. Her hand lingered on his back a moment longer than necessary.

An uncertain look crossed Ilithia's face. "I – I can just tell. From the sound." She sighed, lying back down. "Have you slept?"

He rolled onto his side so he could look at her – with the side benefit of bringing him closer to her. "Yea," he said, smiling, "It's a nice bed." She gave a little laugh. "You?"

"Not much," she confessed.

He nodded. "Nervous?"

"Yea; plus it's freezing in here," she grumbled. "Even putting my socks back on didn't help."

"I can think of a way to warm you up," Carth growled in what he hoped sounded like a jokingly seductive voice.

She burst out laughing. "Is that the best you can do?"

Ignoring the return of the warm rush, Carth forced himself to laugh along with her. "C'mon, I'm just offering to cuddle up to conserve heat." She threw him a disbelieving look. "What's the matter, beautiful," he replied, pouting in mock indignation, "You think I'm going to try something?"

_Damn, he's cute when he does that – and he knows it, too_. She looked him up and down, grinning mischievously. "I'm certain you're going to try something." Carth laughed, giving her an equally obvious once-over. "I just want to make sure you know which body parts you'll be missing by morning."

"Nothing I need to fly, fire my blasters, or, ah," he grinned lecherously, "Fulfill my dishonorable intentions."

She rolled her eyes. _It really is cold…and it could be worse – I could've brought Zaalbar_. "I'll start with your ears, then, and work my way down." Sighing, she rolled over on her side, turning her back towards him. "Do it."

Carth blinked in surprise – he hadn't thought she'd actually go for it. "Are you sure?"

"Hurry up, will you? I'm a damn icicle over here," she muttered, drawing her arms into her chest protectively.

"Okay…" He slid over until his knees brushed the backs of her thighs. She jumped, but said nothing. Moving deliberately, he settled in behind her, fitting his legs into hers, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and grasping her chilled hands in his. "Let me know if you're not comfortable," he whispered when he laid his head down beside hers.

She only nodded in response. _Comfortable? This is wonderful. _An itching urge to settle her hips closer to his crept over her skin. _I can't give him any ideas. Stay stiff._

Carth could already feel her skin warming up – but beneath, her muscles were strained and tense. _She's really nervous_. "So…did you have a good time at the party?," he asked, hoping a little conversation would ease her mind.

"Yea," she said, shrugging slightly. "The ale was passable, the conversations weren't all bad –" Carth's embrace tightened suddenly. "What?," she asked, turning her head in his direction.

"What were you and Gadon talking about?," he asked, hoping she would buy his _I'm-just-curious_ act.

She shifted away from him fractionally. "Not much, really. He was giving me tips for the race, telling me about some of my opponents." Carth grunted disbelievingly. Ilithia sighed, turning her head and shoulders around until she could see him. "What!?," she repeated insistently.

His anger – _okay, jealousy _– getting the better of him, Carth snapped. "What did Gadon whisper to you, huh? Tell you what room he's in and how late he'll wait up?"

Ilithia stared at him for a moment before shaking her head with an exasperated laugh. "You really are a lobotomized Gamorrean, sometimes, Carth."

"Huh?" He'd expected her to get angry – _what's going on?_

"He said," Ilithia continued, smiling, "That you were looking at him like he was a rakghoul about to take a bite out of me."

Carth frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you were giving him a very nasty look because the only person you think should be flirting with me is you."

"Oh." _Damn – am I that obvious?_ "Well, um, I –"

"Relax, Carth," she said, laughing and rolling back over. "It's not as revolting as I thought it would be." She settled her back against his chest closer than ever before.

_Not as_ – "Woman…I'm going to –"

Ilithia rolled over suddenly, one arm draping itself across the pillow above Carth's head, the other resting itself lightly along his thigh. Her lips glistened less than an inch from his, while stray strands of her hair draped lazily across her cheeks. "Well?"

He reached up and brushed away one offending strand. His fingers worked their way down her face, tracing the outline of her jaw, gliding along the her neck, moving back and forth over one bare arm until she shuddered and sighed. "I thought I told you not to try anything," came her singsong reminder.

"That's not trying anything," he said in a husky voice he barely recognized. He bent his head to her skin and gently brushed his lips against her neck. "Now this," he whispered, kissing down her neck towards the collar of her bodysuit, "This would be trying something." He slid a hand down her arms, slipping it around her waist so he could pull her close against him. His lips moved back up her neck, and he grazed the edge of her ear with his tongue.

She gasped, then let out a soft moan. _Oh, wow…_

He wanted her. Wanted to make her cry his name for every question she'd asked, and to pay her back for his silence with each scratch her nails would leave on his skin. To seize her and take her, claim her as his own, to bury himself in her – all his feelings, his pain, his anger, even the small flicker of lightness he felt when she smiled. He rolled her over, sliding on top, pressing himself down on her. She moaned again, moving her legs against his as her hands reached out for him. Her lips beckoned, and he leaned down to devour them –

_You don't really know her_, hissed the always-doubting voice in his mind. _Why is she interested in you? She could be a Sith spy, using you to get to Bastila – don't trust her!_

With a sigh, he kissed her chin, pulling back from their embrace. "I think I've risked dismemberment enough for one night," he murmured, caressing her cheek.

She tried to cover the deep crimson flush heating her face with a grin. "What, am I not going to get a second chance?"

"Just keep hounding me with questions, woman," he said, laughing. "And I promise you'll get what's coming to you someday."

Suddenly she wrapped her legs around his and snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto her. She kissed him fiercely, lips and tongue working as he returned the kiss, their heads moving in tandem.

Just as suddenly, she broke off, releasing him from her grip. "Don't ever make me a promise you can't – or won't – keep," she intoned, her eyes locked on his. "And don't ever lie to me."

He nodded, bracing himself with his elbows while the world spun around. "I won't," he replied, panting. "I promise."_ I want to trust her_. _Force help me, I want to try._

Ilithia looked surprised, and impressed, but only for a moment. "Good to hear," she said lightly, the usual mix of cynicism and mirth back in her eyes. She rolled over onto her side, her back towards him as before, but she made no effort to end their embrace. "I think I'll be able to get some sleep now."

_Somebody should, because I sure won't be_. "Glad to help."

The last thought she had was how very well she fit in his arms.

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Carth paced around the apartment, cursing himself for having kicked the transmitter. He'd been trying to tune back in to the broadcast of the swoop race; feedback flooded the signal when the fighting started. For a moment, he thought he heard the announcer yelling that someone was down – then it had blinked out again. That was when he punted the blasted thing clear across the room, where it landed on the workbench and shattered into several dozen pieces.

_She's got to be fine. Bastila's there, and free – they can fight their way out, and Bastila can heal anything_. He contemplated leaving the hideout to go look for them, but Ilithia had insisted he stay behind with Mission and Zaalbar, discussing a way to get off Taris. Discussions that kept ending with "And then the Sith will shoot us down." He heard light footsteps in the hallway running swiftly towards their room. A moment later the door split in two and opened – revealing two ragged-looking but living ladies.

"Bastila!" Carth exclaimed, overjoyed. "Finally things are looking up!"

Ilithia stopped wincing long enough to glare at him. "What am I, a useless gizka?" she muttered.

"Hey," he whispered, as she limped past him towards a chair, "I didn't mean it like that, I –" He reached out a hand to help her into the chair, but she slapped it away. _Damn it, not this again…_ "Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet," he said, turning towards the Jedi.

Bastila either hadn't heard them or chose to ignore them. "You mean you don't have a plan for getting off Taris yet?" she said incredulously, lightly seating herself on a bed. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"We were trying to find you, remember?," Ilithia snapped.

Carth paused in his hunt for medpacs. _Uh-oh…catfight_. Mission and Zaalbar exchanged glances saying the same thing, retreating into a corner with some Pazaak cards. "I know you're new at this Bastila, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned." _Or because you're genetically incapable of admitting you might sometimes be wrong_. "Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here," he added, knowing it would get a grin out of Ilithia.

Bastila's jaw hung slack for a moment before she jumped up, indignation flashing in her eyes. _How…dare…Carth, too!_ "That hardly strikes me of an appropriate way of addressing your commanding officer, Carth," she snapped, striding over to him and attempting to assume an authoritative pose. "I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!" Ilithia sat up, trading _I-can't-believe-this_ looks with Carth. "My Battle Meditation ability has helped the Republic many times in this war, and I'm sure it will serve us well here."

"Your talent might win us a few battles, but it doesn't make you a good leader!," Carth retorted, glowering down at the Jedi like a drill sergeant laying into a recruit. _She's even touchier than Ilithia!_ "A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who've seen more combat than she ever will!"

Ilithia shot out of her chair and moved to stand between the other two. "Both of you settle down!" _This is priceless - the Jedi finally shows up and I'm the blasted voice of reason_. "This isn't helping." She shot an apologetic look at Carth, then joined him in turning and staring down Bastila.

The Jedi held her composure for a few moments, then blinked and looked away, her shoulders slumping. "Yes…you're right, of course," she sighed. She looked back up at the other two. "I apologize, Carth," she said, without bitterness. "This has been a difficult time for me."

"How difficult?," Carth asked, his face suddenly a picture of concern. "They – Brejik – he didn't try anything, did he?"

_Onasi the Overprotective_, Ilithia thought with a smile, _arriving right on cue_.

"Not at all, thank the Force," Bastila said quickly, shuddering visibly at the thought of being touched by such a thug. "His plan all along was for one of his own riders to win the swoop race, at which point I would be gifted back to him and be made available for purchase. If I had been…defiled," she spat, like the word itself was rotten, "My price would have been significantly lower." Carth brightened somewhat, muttering nastily about the evils of slavery. Bastila inhaled deeply, forcing a smile on to her face as she glanced from Carth to Ilithia and back. "What do you suggest we do?"

Carth looked over at Ilithia, who shrugged. _Aside from not getting hung up on who's in charge…_ "The answer is out there," he said lamely. "We just have to find it."

"Bastila's had plenty of free time on her hand to sit and think," Ilithia said flatly. "What's her brilliant plan?" Carth frowned – apparently the young Jedi's gift for pissing people off within an hour of meeting them hadn't been affected by her captivity.

"Maybe one of the locals can help us out," Bastila said, with an air of finality. "We should probably start by asking around in one of the cantinas."

Ilithia tried not to roll her eyes. _Because everyone else stuck on Taris hasn't already tried that_. "Fine – but you're staying here."

Bastila scowled. _They spend all this time trying to find me and now they don't want my help?_ "Why would that be wise?"

"Because everyone on this planet will recognize you as a Jedi," Ilithia replied, annoyed the younger woman hadn't figured it out. "The Sith would be all over us like sand on Tatooine."

"How would they know that?"

"Because you called yourself a Jedi when you started the fight at the racetrack," Carth intoned. "Half the planet probably heard it." As much as he'd like to have a Jedi watching his back, the animosity between the two women would be a distraction, and Bastila's aristocratic haughtiness wouldn't exactly fit in with the cantina crowd. "Besides," he added, hoping to put a positive spin on Bastila's displeasure, "You're probably pretty tired after being in that cage this whole time. Take a shower, get some sleep – you'll be busy enough when we hook back up with the fleet."

Bastila pouted, sitting back down on the bed. "Alright," she grumbled – _just like a teenager who's been told to do their homework before going out with their friends_, Carth thought with a laugh. An image of an equally petulant young man sulking in a darkened room flashed through his mind. _Dustil…_the laugh gave way to a sigh.

"Okay," Ilithia said slowly, eying the change in Carth's emotions warily. _What was that about?_ "We'll be back by dusk, or earlier if we get lucky."

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_Lucky doesn't even begin to describe it_, she reflected, watching Canderous Ordo's massive frame – and massive blaster – part the crowds as he walked away. No sooner had she and Carth stepped out of the apartment than they'd been hailed by a local and told to go meet Canderous – in a cantina. The Mandalorian then proceeded to offer them a way to get off Taris, in a crime lord's personal ship, no less. _Maybe Bastila's not so useless, after all_. There was the small matter of breaking into the Sith base and stealing launch codes out of the Governor's private office first, which would probably require killing every Sith in the entire base. Not that there was anything wrong with that. _I hope it smells better than the Vulkar base did_.

"Well, let's go get that 'droid he mentioned."

Ilithia turned her gaze on Carth. "In a minute," she muttered, grabbing his arm and steering him towards a vacant table in the corner.

Carth groaned. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it yet."

"After what I let you get away with last night? Tough," she replied, shoving him at a chair.

"Hey, you were the one who kissed me!" he protested; but he did sit down.

She slid into the opposite chair, arching an eyebrow. "Only after you nearly nailed me."

"Whatever happened to 'I don't like to be touched'?"

"Whatever happened to 'I just don't trust easily'?"

Carth's eyes narrowed. "Why do you think I stopped?"

A flash of anger passed over Ilithia's face. "Oh, it's like that, is it?" she snapped, waving off the waitress. _I'm good enough to almost screw, but not good enough for a conversation!?_

"Like what…?" Carth gaped, dropping his head into his hands. "Blast it if you aren't the most frustrating woman to talk to!" he replied, frustrated but fading. "Isn't there someone else you can harass for a little while?"

"Yes," Ilithia smirked, "But she has a lightsaber and isn't nearly as entertaining."

He laughed, loudly and genuinely, drawing her into laughing along with him. "Can't say I've ever met a woman quite like you before," he finally said, smiling and shaking his head. "You're really something."

_I want him to trust me_, she thought, breaking into a smile of her own as their eyes met. _I was just curious before, but now…_she held his gaze for a long moment, comfortable with the warmth his eyes brought her. "I've asked more questions than I've answered," she said slowly, "So...my parents were killed in a speeder accident when I was two."

Carth paled. "Oh…I'm sorry."

"I don't remember anything about it," she said, shrugging. "Or them. It should probably upset me more than it does, but it doesn't."

"At least your brother was with you."

The first hint of sadness crept into her voice. "He wasn't. He was a sweet little infant angel, he got placed with a nice foster family right away and stayed there." She leaned forward onto the table, her features darkening. "They refused to take me, so by law they couldn't adopt him, but he stayed there until he was old enough to get a job. We'd stayed in touch, and he moved in with me, but we weren't brother and sister anymore – hadn't been for years. Not close friends, even – though we tried." Ilithia closed her eyes, leaning her head back until it touched up against the wall.

"You stayed in an orphanage that whole time?"

Ilithia nodded sadly. "They tried placing me with a couple of different families after my brother's foster parents said no, but all the others gave me up after a couple of weeks."

_If you were half as annoying as you are now_…Carth flushed, scolding himself for thinking such thoughts. "I'm sorry," he mumbled thickly.

"I was a handful even then," she sighed, "So don't blame yourself for thinking they had good reason to get rid of me – they did." Carth's face turned even redder. "Besides, this is my older and more mature self who's driving you batty," she added, jaded humor in her tone. She fell silent, swimming through her memories. They were fuzzy, misty, almost too distant to recall, but one memory burned brightly in her mind. "Family is where you find it," she whispered.

_What if there's no family left to find? What are you left with then? _ "What's that?" he asked softly.

Ilithia's eyes stayed closed. "Something we used to say to each other. When everything you cared for is taken away, even your loved ones, those who stay with you and those who come to comfort you are your family. Your real family." She opened her eyes, frowning. "Not that I've kept up with any of them. I took a nice, solitary job as a scout and never looked back."

"I can understand why you wouldn't want to talk about it. That must have been horrible," Carth murmured, visions of rows of rickety beds and faded, too-big clothing floating through his mind.

"No, actually, it wasn't," she said, as if she was as amazed as he that it hadn't been so awful. "It wasn't wonderful, either, but the food was good, the staff quite nice, even the beds were comfortable. And the other kids there were all in the same, unadoptable boat – behavioral problems, too old, a disability…" She trailed off, staring off into the corners of the cantina as if she expected to see ghosts lurking in the shadows. "It's just – it's been a really long time since I was around anyone long enough to talk about anything more profound than the weather and pod racing," she said. "And the only person that I ever really…opened up to vanished into space with Darth Revan. Hell, he might even have been on that ship that attacked us." She paused, drawing in a deep breath. "So I –"

"Saul Karath."

A chill crept over Ilithia's skin. _Karath, and Telos…of course_. "Oh…"

Carth leaned back, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. "He's half the reason Malak's has done so well in the war, at least since Revan's death. Malak isn't the general Revan was, good or evil." He paused, expecting Ilithia to have something, anything, to say, but she stayed silent. _She's letting me say what I want, how I want – she understands._

"Saul was my commanding officer back when the Mandalorian Wars first began," he continued, hunching over the table and clasping his hands together on its surface. "And my mentor. He taught me everything about being a soldier…I looked up to him. He led us to so many victories against the Mandalorians, even when things looked to be at their worst." He paused, trying to find the words to describe what happened next, when he felt the soft touch of her hands on his. _Why now? Why her? _"Saul approached me before he…left. He talked about how the Republic was on the losing side…and about how I should start thinking of my survival." Her fingers tightened their grip. "I know now that he was trying to recruit me into the Sith, but I couldn't have conceived of it back then. I argued with him, and he got angry and he left. I never saw him again."

His voice hardened, bitterness replacing regret. "I just…couldn't conceive of it. He...he couldn't be serious. I was wrong of course; he not only left us for the Sith, he gave them the codes to bypass our scanners. I remember waking up as the first of the Sith bombers snuck past our defenses and began bombing half our docked ships. I knew immediately what had happened." Ilithia shifted in her seat, pursing her lips. "It's OK," he said quickly. "Go ahead."

"You blame yourself for trusting your friend?," she asked quietly.

"I blame Saul, not myself," he replied, shaking his head. "I was…I was stupid and ignored the danger. He nearly destroyed us all." He unfolded his fists, moving to take her hands in his. "I…could have stopped him. I could have stopped it all."

She smiled sadly. "Do you really believe that?"

Carth sighed, knowing each answer he gave was leading him further down the disused and overgrown road he'd feared for so long. "I don't know. Maybe. He might have killed me if I'd tried, or I might have killed him. I was stupid, however, and let him go." He looked up at her for the first time since he began speaking, hardening his expression. _I need you to understand this_. "I've fought Saul for years, now, and if I ever catch up to him…he will regret what he's done. He will regret it."

"I'd do the same thing in your shoes," she said evenly.

"Your brother," he said.

Ilithia shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "Actually, no. I feel some anger, yes, but mostly…it just makes me sad. It was his choice, and he's the one who's going to have to accept whatever consequences that brings." She shrugged. "Karath betrayed you personally and professionally, then led the Sith fleet to your homeworld and bombed it into spacedust – he deserves killing for that." She looked up at him just in time to see a spasm of deep pain contort his face for a moment before he hid his feelings behind a scowl. "There's more, isn't there?"

"This is me we're talking about," Carth said, managing a dark smile. "There's always more." Ilithia frowned, not sure if she should push for more – _he's already said so much_. "Later," he said, grasping her hands tightly and letting some of his emotions show. "I promise." She smiled sadly, nodding. Easing his grip, he exhaled deeply, as if releasing a breath he had drawn in years before. "I suppose I could use someone to talk to…thanks for listening," he added, in a tone so gentle it made his eyes gleam.

"Thanks for answering," she replied, forcing her eyes to meet his in spite of a shyness more powerful than any she'd felt before. _He trusted me enough to tell me…wow._

He held her gaze, smiling for another heartbeat before releasing his hands and standing up. "Let's go get that 'droid, alright?"

"One more thing," she said slowly, a conspiratorial smile on her face as she got up and headed for the bar.

"So – are you ready?"

The sound of that meanacing, metallic voice stopped Ilithia cold. _Damn…_ She turned towards Bendak, grimacing at the scowl Carth gave her.

"Ajuur's got everything set up," the Mandalorian said, casually draping a hand over his holstered blaster. "I see you've upgraded your armor," he jeered, "Though I don't know anyone in such a flimsy get-up would last thirty seconds against me."

Iilthia's fists clenched instinctively – _time to show this arrogant son of a_ – but the angry retort that was rising to the surface plunged back down at the sound of Carth's sigh. Instead of anger or disdain, she saw disappointment in his eyes. "I'm sure Brejik, Kandon, and a few dozen other Black Vulkars would have agreed with that theory," she said smoothly, flashing a wicked grin at Bendak while hoping Carth could see that she was calming down. "Except that I spent the last two days killing them, so they may have changed their minds."

"That was you?" Surprise and a bit of wariness crept into the Mandalorian's voice. "But I bet you had a little help from your friend here, and that Jedi at the swoop track – do you really think you can take me down by yourself?"

Her grin softened. "Yes." Carth made another exasperated noise. _No need for paranoia this time, handsome_. "But I'm not going to." A hiss of inhaled breath came from the helmet. "I've got a lot more lives on my conscience than I did two days ago; respect and credits simply aren't good enough reasons to add your name to that list. Convey my regrets to Ajuur," she finished, turning to resume her progress towards the bar.

"Nobody walks away from Bendak Starkiller!"

Before she heard his cry and long before she heard the telltale snap of a blaster being unholstered, Ilithia's hand found its way to the hilt of her vibroblade. She whirled around amidst the screaming patrons, pivoting her body to gracefully swoop the blade upwards until the tip found the joint between the Mandalorian's helmet and chest plate. Bendak froze, his blaster still only halfway out of its holster. "Today, I do," she growled, putting slightly more pressure on the blade. "And then so will you." Cantina security guards approached, blasters drawn, but stopped when Bendak let his blaster drop back into his holster and raised his hands into the air, waving them off. "Carth," she called out over her shoulder. "Relieve him of his blaster."

"You won't fight me, but you will rob me?" Bendak sneered.

"I'm sure you'll acquire a replacement easily enough," Ilithia demurred, smiling. "And trust me, we need it more than you do." As soon as Carth had taken the blaster and stepped back, she lowered her blade to a less lethal angle. "My friend and I are going to have a drink, after which we have business to attend to elsewhere," she said, her tone conversational but dismissive. "Have a nice day." Bendak nodded and moved off towards the duelists' chamber. The cantina guards glared at Carth and Ilithia before following.

Carth quickly stuck Bendak's blaster in his pack, then gently touched Ilithia on one arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yea," she replied, letting out a deep, ragged breath and sliding the blade back into its sheath. "Glad I got out of that one without a fight." The cantina's patrons were turning back to their drinks, jabbering excitedly but steadfastly avoiding being caught glancing at Ilithia.

"Why?" he asked softly.

She started walking slowly towards the main bar. "I promised you I'd be more careful, didn't I?"

"But you'd also agreed to fight Bendak," he countered.

"Well, then I guess it's obvious which promise meant more to me," she said quickly, hoping the dim light in the cantina would keep Carth from seeing her sudden blush. Reaching the bar, Ilithia waved at the bartender, who let out a frightened yelp but nodded and hurried over. "Two shots of Alderaanian firewhiskey, please."

Carth slid into the chair next to her. "Ilithia…can I ask you something?"

She grinned. "If I said no, would it stop you?"

"Not a chance," he shot back, returning the grin. Ilithia shrugged and threw up her hands, surrendering. "When Bendak pulled his blaster…it looked like you were already moving, like you knew he was going to attack. That can't be true, but…that's what I saw."

Her mood chilled. "Before we left, B – our newest companion," she corrected herself, clasping her hands on the counter, "Pulled me aside for a little chat while you were packing our gear. She said…" Ilithia made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort. "She said she thought I was Force sensitive."

Confusion darkened Carth's face. "As in…you can use the Force? Like a Jedi?" The bartender placed their drinks in front of them, waiting patiently until Ilithia had produced the twenty credits their drinks cost and a nice little tip before gliding off.

"Yea," Ilithia whispered. "I was already drawing my blade because I already knew I was going to be attacked." Carth's confusion faded into comprehension…_and something else…fear?_ She shook that thought away. "Every nerve in my body, every cell in my brain was screaming that he was about to shoot me, so I just drew my blade and turned around; and I didn't move to make it to go his neck, it – it just went there."

The drink called to him, but Ilithia called to him more. "What do you think it means?"

"I think…I think she may be right." She reached for her drink, grasping it but not bringing it to her lips. "With what we're about to do, let's hope she is. Which brings me back to these," she said, raising her glass in the air and forcing a smile onto her face.

"A ceremonial toast before battle? That's an old tradition – a good one, but a really old one." _Can she be any more incredible?_

She nodded, picking up the first drink and handing it to him. "I know it's not done very much anymore, but my brother told me that Revan led her troops in a toast before they stormed Mandalore's flagship. The source may be a little tainted," she said, putting out one hand to prevent any protest, "But I think you'll like it anyhow."

"Okay," Carth said, plucking the small glass off the counter and handing it to Ilithia. She drew herself up into a tall, erect pose, and spoke in a regal voice that still echoed in his mind as the door to the Sith Base slid open:

"Fight until you have no more strength; draw upon your courage until your will falters; use all your skill until you are overwhelmed; but at the last, remember why you have come to this battle, and you will find the strength, courage, and skill to fight on."

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Ilithia had never seen so much purple. _And that armor_…lurid was the only word that came to mind. She'd complimented Davik on owning such a "unique" set during their tour of his compound – including an honest-to-goodness throne room – only to see him puff up with so much pride and vanity it had taken all of her concentration not to burst out laughing. Carth had to pretend to sneeze behind his hand to hide his snicker. But Canderous and Calo Nord, a diminutive bounty hunter Ilithia and Carth had seen in the Lower City who was now glued to Davik's side like a burr on a Bantha, seemed unaffected. _With the lives they've led, I doubt anything affects them at all – except their own self interest._

"OK, we're in," the Mandalorian growled as soon as the door to the main chamber swished shut behind Davik and Calo. "Let's get what we came for and get off this rock."

_Don't knock selfishness – it's getting your butt off of Taris, too_. "Sure thing," she replied steadily. "We'll need a computer terminal, and then either a passcode or enough spikes to slice in."

"All the terminals are in the other wings." Canderous shouldered his blaster and led them into the hall. "I don't know where you might find spikes, but I do know the pilot has the codes."

"And we can find the pilot where?" Ilithia asked, unsheathing her vibroblade.

The Mandalorian walked to the doorway and glanced down the hall in either direction. "The northwest exit from the throne room. I heard the pilot was…detained. For stealing spice."

Ilithia nodded, glancing over at Carth to make sure he agreed – which, considering that he had his blasters at the ready, he did. "Let's go."

Guards and idling bounty hunters caused them little trouble as they made their way through the estate. Canderous mowed them down with the repeating function on his blaster, just letting them get far enough inside the door to get the right range to make firing worthwhile. Carth hung back, watching with both awe and disgust at the Mandalorian's droid-like ability to maximize his firepower and damage. _The best way to keep him from ever having a reason to shoot at me is probably not to talk to him…ever._

They quickly found and freed the pilot, receiving the security codes to Davik's ship, the _Ebon Hawk_, in return. _First Davik loses Canderous' loyalty and now this guy's – not good_, Ilithia thought as they chopped their way through bounty hunters and lab technicians to reach the hangar.

"After we bust in," the Mandalorian growled when the reached the hangar door, "We'll grab the ship and blast off this rock as fast as we can."

Ilithia immediately stopped and turned to give Canderous the stubbornly insistent look Carth was far too familiar with. "No – we grab the ship, pick up our other companions, and then we blast off this rock," she countered. Mission, Zaalbar, and Bastila had broken in to an old, abandoned spaceport to wait for retrieval.

"Fine," Canderous sneered, though not a single muscle in his face moved. "But the Sith aerial patrols will be onto us the second we leave the hangar, so I hope your friend here flies better than he shoots."

Carth tightened his grip on his blasters and opened his mouth to retort – _damn my own advice, I'm not taking that kind of crap from a Mandalorian_ – but a rumbling sound and rippling shock wave changed his plans. "What was that?" he said instead, glancing over at Ilithia, who was staring blankly at the floor in pensive confusion. "Hey," he said, taking her by the arm, "Are you with us?"

She blinked, her eyes focusing. "Yea," she replied quickly, shaking her head as another rumble echoed off in the distance.

"Whatever that is it can't be good," Canderous muttered, striding up to the hangar door. "Let's get out of here."

They barely made it ten feet into the hangar before a sprinting splotch of purple brought them to a halt. "Damn those Sith – they're bombing the whole planet! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or…well, look what we got here!" The small blue figure of Calo Nord appeared at Davik's elbow as the crime lord spoke. "Thieves in the hangar, figuring they'd just steal my ship for you get-away and leave me high and dry while the Sith turn the planet into dust!"

Ilithia tightened her grip on her vibroblade, picturing a trembling Mission being sheltered by Zaalbar in her mind. _Hang on guys, we'll – hurry, to the stairs!_ – she shook her head again, chasing the stray thoughts away.

"I'll take care of them," Calo said with a sadistic glee, reaching for his blaster. "I've been looking for –" A cluster of bolts from Canderous' blaster caught Calo square in the chest, knocking him back several feet. The bounty hunter swayed, then staggered forward a few steps, only to be hit by a volley from Carth.

Davik took aim at Ilithia, who ducked the shot but still hung back behind her blaster-wielding companions. _Charge or wait, charge or wait…_ The Sith answered the question for her when a series of blinding red flashes shook the hangar to its foundations, knocking everyone to the ground. When the glare faded, only Ilithia, Carth and Canderous got back up. Wordlessly, all three ran for the ship.


	2. Paths

"Plot a course for Dantooine…there's a Jedi enclave there where we can find refuge."

"You saw what the Sith fleet did to Taris," Carth's voice argued in reply. "The only safety we can find is with Republic forces!"

Ilithia, fresh from the noise and stress of the gun turret, slumped over the table in the center of the _Ebon Hawk_'s common room and buried her head in her arms. The voices of the dying that she'd begun to hear in Davik's estate had only grown louder and more numerous as they escaped Taris, giving her enough of a headache. Listening to Round 234,896 of Carth vs. Bastila was not helping. _Take us to Hoth for all I care…just please let this feeling stop._

"I guess we could all use a little rest," Carth sighed. "It isn't easy to witness the destruction of an entire planet. I know Mission must be taking it pretty hard."

She could hear the iciness of his own memories of Telos in his words. _Damn the Sith_, she thought, wrenching herself up to go look for the presumably distraught child. _Damn Malak, damn Revan, double damn on Saul Karath, damn the whole damned lot of them, from the Dark Lord all the way to the Dark Lord's janitor!_

Soft sobs from the starboard bunk room betrayed the Twi'lek's refuge. Zaalbar was cradling her as best he could, but Mission was in no mood to be comforted, eyes staring vacantly at the floor. Her lips silently formed words, the names of those she now imagined lying bleeding and broken beneath the ruins of the city above the one she had known. Ilithia dropped down onto the floor next to them. "We're safe in hyperspace now," she said quietly.  
"O – okay," Mission stammered, not even trying to fight her tears. "What're we –"

"Don't you worry about that," Ilithia sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Not now. Later."

A slight tremor of lekku was the only sign that Mission had nodded. "They're all dead, aren't they?" she asked harshly, grief and anger coloring her voice.

"Probably," Ilithia said, mentally running through an even more profane tirade against all things Sith. "There are always some survivors…but not many."

"Gadon…Zaedra…even that slimy guy who was always trying to get me to dance for him…" Mission sniffed, rubbing the back of her hand over her face. "Nobody deserves to die like that." Zaalbar howled softly, a wordless moan of sympathy.

Ilithia gingerly laid a hand on Mission's back. _This is a child in need of comfort – no matter how uncomfortable I am, she needs this_. "No, no one does," she agreed calmly.

Mission nodded, sniffling as more tears collected in her eyes. "They were the only family I ever had."

"In the orphanage I grew up in," Ilithia said hesitantly, "We always used to tell each other that family is where you find it." Mission glanced up quizzically at her, and she answered the unspoken question with a slight, nervous nod. _Yeah, kid…me too_.

Mission blinked enough tears away to look up at Ilithia clearly, but held back her reply at the sight of the orange and brown figure of Carth approaching the bunk room. She caught his attention with her eyes, but he shook his head, placing a finger against his lips and coming to a rest just outside the doorway. Mission turned her attention back to Ilithia. "So, what does that mean?"

"I'm not really sure," Ilithia admitted with a sigh. "I used to think it meant that despite everything we had lost, we could still start over again, with each other."

Mission sniffed again, wiping her cheeks. "Does it work?"

A look of deep loneliness and sadness came over Ilithia's face. Carth had to look away – he'd seen that same expression too many times in his mirror, wallowing in regret over all the opportunities for friendship and love that he'd lost; or worse, passed by. "I don't know," he heard her whisper. "I've really never tried." Mission's face fell, and she turned her gaze back to the deck. "But you and Zaalbar found each other, even after he left Kashyyyk and you lost Griff, so…" Ilithia shrugged, her face relaxing pensively.

"Yea," Mission said slowly, "I guess. Maybe." Zaalbar let out a series of soft howls. "Of course we're family, Big Z," she said, brightening enough to give the Wookie a sad smile. "I dragged Carth and Ilithia into the sewers to get you back from those Gammoreans – if that doesn't make all four of us family, I don't know what does."

_Family?_ Ilithia blinked. _I don't have any family – no parents, a brother only by technicality, no friends – it's just me, and that's just fine_. She knew the lifedebt with Zaalbar created a powerful bond between them, and through the Wookie to Mission as well, but it had never occurred to her to think of it in those terms. _I haven't thought of anything or anyone in those terms in years…if ever_, she reflected. _Stable, safe, and solitary life._

Muffled coughing from the doorway drew her gaze up to a pair of warm brown eyes above a battered orange jacket. Ilithia immediately felt her cheeks burn – how long had he been there, listening? _If tramping through the sewers doesn't do it, would raiding a Sith base, stealing a crime lord's ship, and nearly screwing each other senseless count?_ A red bloom spread beneath his stubble – _good to know I'm not the only one thinking that._

"Uh," he started awkwardly, "It'll only take us six hours to get to Dantooine, so, uh…" He found his gaze dropping from Ilithia's eyes to her lips. _Would it be so bad if we were…if we even could?_ "I just thought you should know," he finished hurriedly, forcing himself to look away.

"Why don't we go exploring, Big Z?" Mission said slowly, glancing from one very tense, blushing adult to the other. "Let's see what Davik's got stashed on this ship."

Ilithia began to rise, her muscles aching with every movement. "If you find any Alderaanian firewhiskey, it's mine." _I should've gotten that massage_.

"I call the Corellian ale," Carth added, stepping aside to let Zaalbar pass. "Leave the cheap stuff for the Mandalorian."

"Only if you're the one who tells him," Mission called out as they disappeared down the passageway back to the common room.

Carth and Ilithia stood silent, neither raising their gaze from the floor for a long moment.

She moved first. "Are you alright?"

"Bad memories," he said simply, in a tone discouraging any further questions.

_I'm not in the mood, anyhow_. "I can't imagine –" , my love, about to 170... She flinched, reaching a hand up to her forehead – _please, stop_. "Well, I couldn't until today."

He pushed aside the burning images of a different world's death. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not," she said shakily, turning to lean against the wall for support. "I can hear them," Ilithia whispered. Carth took a step towards her, his face ashen. "Their screams, their fear…I can feel them dying." Her hands began to tremble as her breath became heavier and more labored. "It's like this cold, black weight on me…in me..."

She felt Carth gently take hold of her, easing her back down to the deck. "Try not to think about it," he said, wrapping an arm around her for support. "We've survived – that's all that matters." He didn't sound like he believed it himself, but Ilithia appreciated the effort.

"Dantooine, then?" she asked, trying to imagine what it would look like. _Pastoral, I'm sure, with lots of trees and rivers – just like the Prom-_ She shook her head. "Bastila convinced you?"

"She is technically my commanding officer, so there was no point in putting up much of a fight." He tightened his grip on Ilithia nervously. "She said she needed to consult with the Jedi Council about 'recent developments.'"

"Me." _More Jedi. Lovely._

Carth nodded jerkily. "The question is, what do they want with you?"

"I'm not sure," Ilithia said. "Bastila said they don't usually take adults for training, but…" She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "I'm just having a hard enough time wrapping my brain around everything that's happened in the last few days. The idea that – " She broke off again, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

He loosened his grasp on her, but moved his arms to take her into a closer embrace. "Whatever it is they throw at you, you'll handle it," he said gently.

"And to think a week ago the biggest thing in my life was finally winning a hand in my squad's Pazaak game," she mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder and settling herself deeper into his arms.

_Same as always for me – kill Saul_. "You've done good – I can't imagine how you could've done any better." He ran one hand down her arm, smiling at the series of soft murmurs that produced. "You were strong and smart, you kept your sense of humor, you were fearless…" _And so beautiful…_ "And a little bit reckless," he added, brushing his lips lightly against her forehead. He waited for the snicker and the sly retort, but she stayed silent – in fact, she gave no sign that she'd even heard him. Her eyes were still closed, her muscles were slack, and her breathing was soft, slow and regular…Carth shook his head, chuckling. _She is unbelievable_.

"Very cute."

The sandpaper growl of Canderous' voice startled Carth out of his reverie. "What is it?" he mumbled, turning his face away to hide the blush.

"Your girlfriend left this in the gun turret," the Mandalorian said, thrusting Ilithia's vibroblade at Carth and grinning with amusement.

_Girlfriend…_ Carth tried to will his body not to respond to that thought, but the warm, tingling sensations flooded his senses, gleefully disobedient. "She's not my girlfriend," he finally managed to mutter, snatching her sword from Canderous' grasp. The mercenary only grinned harder as he walked away. Carth laid the sword off to one side, then gently started to ease Ilithia back towards one of the bunks along the wall. She'd need her sleep, he thought, yanking a blanket over her – _I'm sure she'll be cold_. He gazed at her for a moment, then started to haul himself up to go back to the cockpit when a small moan and a movement to curl up with the flat, threadbare pillow stopped him. _Somebody should stay to make sure she can sleep without being bothered – especially by Bastila_, he reasoned, settling himself against the wall and closing his eyes. _They'll find me when they need me_.

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_This planet is very…brown_. Carth didn't know why he'd expected more greenery on Dantooine, but he could see nothing but hilly grasslands surrounding the Jedi Enclave. The sun was setting as they landed, which gave the brown of those hills shimmering highlights of red and gold. It was beautiful, but after the gloom and grime of Taris anything would've looked good.

He didn't hear the commotion until the landing thrusters powered down. Shouts from the common room echoed down the passageway – Bastila and Ilithia, with Mission occasionally chiming in. _The faster we can give Bastila back to the Jedi, the better_, Carth grumbled mentally, striding towards the angry trio. Zaalbar was stationed behind the young Twi'lek, and Canderous was leaning casually against a wall with an amused smile on his face.

"I don't see why this is so objectionable," Bastila huffed.

Ilithia readied her retort, her lips twisting into a snarl, but the movement of Carth's approach caught her eye. She paused, giving him a nod for a greeting, and took a deep, steadying breath. "It doesn't make any sense," she said through clenched teeth. "Why would the Jedi Council give a damn about me?"

"You are Force Sensitive – you cannot deny that any longer," Bastila replied, smugly calm. "Why this interests them, I cannot say, but I trust in their wisdom."

"So even you admit you don't know why they'd wanna see Ilithia, huh?" Mission said, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl.

Bastila sighed patronizingly. "I do not need to know why they wish to see her, merely that they do."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem," Ilithia snapped. "Maybe I am Force Sensitive, but I'm no Jedi." She stepped towards Bastila, eyes narrowing. "That they'd want to see a rank-and-file nobody like me is just a little…unusual."

_I think I've rubbed off on her_. "Suspicious of something, Ilithia?" he asked with a mocking grin.

She threw him a dirty look, which only made him grin harder. "Absolutely."

"Surely you are not going to refuse the Council's invitation," Bastila said with a frown. _If the flattery of the request won't work, then perhaps this will…_ "Such favors are not often granted; would it not be rude to refuse?" Ilithia stood still, seemingly unmoved. "And after they have done us the generous favor of granting us safety and shelter from the Sith." She waited, watching the older woman's expression shift from anger to resignation.

"Fine," Ilithia said tersely. "Let's just go and get this over with so I can get back to sleep." She started re-fastening her fiber armor, knowing it was dirty, tattered, and splattered with several different species' blood; but it was only clothing she had left. "This won't take long, right?"

Bastila sniffed. "They are the Council," she said slowly, as if talking to a child. "Their wisdom cannot be forced to abide by anyone's preferred schedule – even their own. That is the way of the Force."

Ilithia took a deep breath, trying to count to ten so she wouldn't give into the urge to slap the holier-than-thou look off the Jedi's face. _I'm going to have to ask Carth for an exception to my promise if I have to put up with this much longer_. "As long as you're the one who apologizes when I start to snore," she shrugged.

"But…one stands in the presence of the Council," Bastila said, confused.

"Yeah. Like I said," Ilithia said brightly, finishing with her armor and turning her gaze to the empty loop on her belt where her sword should have been. "Does anyone remember where I left –"

A sheathed blade appeared in front of her. "I guess misplacing your weapons is something only Force users do," Carth smirked.

She snatched the blade away, trying to give him a menacing glare, but the sight of Bastila turning red in the background made her grin. "You just watch yourself, soldier," she muttered, ignoring a chuckle from Canderous as she slid the scabbard through the loop. "Let's go see some Jedi."

"Captain Onasi is not invited."

"Excuse me?" Ilithia's grin faded quickly as she wheeled around to face Bastila, leaving only the menacing glare.

Bastila heaved an impatient sigh. "No one who is neither a Jedi nor a candidate for admittance to the Order is permitted before the Council." Carth and Ilithia traded surprised and suspicious looks, their anger at Bastila temporarily forgotten. "There is an extremely uncomfortable wooden bench outside the Council chambers where Captain Onasi could wait," Bastila continued, ignoring Ilithia's question. "However, I do not think the Masters would take kindly to his presence."

Carth clenched his fists, readying himself for an argument, but Ilithia jumped in first. "I'm not looking to get you into any trouble with your Jedi Masters," she said evenly. _No matter how much I would enjoy it_. "We'll do things your way this time." She took a step towards the passageway leading to the ramp only to have her progress halted when Carth's hand reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, pulling her towards the cockpit. Ilithia nodded, waving Bastila, away, as Carth led her into a side room filled with communications and tracking equipment. "Are you out of your mind to be going in there alone?" he hissed, his eyes dark with mistrust and fear.

"I don't want to, but unfortunately I appear to be out of options," she retorted. "They have given us sanctuary, and no matter how stupid their rules may sound I don't want to piss them off by breaking them!"

He stepped closer to her so he could whisper with the same level of anger in his voice. "Didn't you hear what Bastila said about candidates for –"

"Yes, I heard it," Ilithia snapped. "I don't know – " she stopped, shaking her head. "No, I do know what it means," she corrected herself, her voice taut and tense. "I don't know what to make of it, but that doesn't mean there's any reason to be paranoid."

"I'm not trying to be paranoid," Carth sighed. "I –"

"It just comes naturally, does it?"

Carth flinched as if slapped. "I thought we already had this conversation on Taris," he said softly, genuinely hurt.

"We did," Ilithia replied, softening her tone. "But if you remember, I promised I would be careful."

He frowned, confused. "You were."

"My promises don't have expiration dates," she said simply.

A few moments passed in silence while the meaning of her words hung between them. _Does she really mean…never?_ Carth wondered, studying her face for any hint of pretense or posturing. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

She shrugged. "No one on the receiving end has ever stuck around long enough for me to find out." Her eyes fixed on his. _Will you?_ "So is that enough to offset your paranoia, at least for now?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug of his own.

"And how many more planets do I have to help you escape from before you will know?" she snapped, scowling and glancing down at her arm.

To Carth's surprise, he still held her by the elbow he'd grasped to pull her aside. "I learned a long time ago that something that looks like a coincidence usually isn't – especially when the Jedi are involved," he cautioned her, trying to burn the words into her mind with his eyes. Releasing her elbow, he slid his hand down her forearm until his fingers curled around her hand. "Please – just bear that in mind."

"I will," Ilithia nodded, twining their fingers together and lightly dragging her thumb over the bare skin of his palm. She held his gaze a moment longer, then pulled away with a reluctant sigh and stepped back into the passageway.

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_We really should inventory all the things we picked up on Taris_, Carth thought, pausing his slow but steady pace long enough to contemplate the inside of the Ebon Hawk's medbay. _Medpacs, weapons, even credits_. They certainly didn't have enough food in the hold to feed a teenage Twi'lek, a Mandalorian, and a Wookiee for more than a few days, let alone himself and Ilithia – he'd checked the stores at least five times in the last few hours.

Sighing softly, he continued on, past the large, circular table in the center of the common room…_it's nearly midnight_…into the passageway and past the communications center on the right…_I wonder what the Republic News Network is saying about Taris_…and into the dark cockpit. _What are they saying to her?_

The white-orange crackle of electricity sparking across a damaged control panel caught his eye as he turned to make the circuit to the hyperdrive and back, again. It would probably only take a few days, if that, to repair the damage inflicted on the _Ebon Hawk_ during the escape from Taris – he'd give the hull a thorough inspection in the morning. _What do they want with her?_

He veered off to the left, stopping at the top of the gangway and gazing out at the deserted docking bay. The others had long since shuffled off to sleep, but Carth had kept to wandering about the ship, determined to stay awake, believing it was important for him to be there when she came back. _I don't know why I think that, but I do_. He laughed softly to himself. _ I don't know why I do half of the things I do around her, but I end up doing them anyway_.

His communicator beeped softly, just as it had every ten minutes for the last two hours. A message from the local Fleet garrison, who obviously knew he was coming to Dantooine in advance and whom he was in no mood to talk to. _The Jedi probably told them…hoping to shove Bastila and I back on the front lines as soon as possible?_

_Or trying to separate you from their newest recruit?_

Carth let out a long sigh, coming to a stop in front of the workbench sharing the swoop bike's hold. He wouldn't put anything past the Jedi, but that thought was too paranoid, even for him. The Jedi aversion to "emotional attachments" was well known, but he'd been under the impression that that was a battle left to each individual Jedi to fight for themselves. _Which means they don't have to get rid of me now, because I'll be gotten rid of later_. Leaning heavily against the table, he realized that if the Jedi didn't get their claws into Ilithia they'd both inevitably end up back with the Fleet, where he was a Captain and she a first-level enlistee; a casual chat in the hallways between two such disparate ranks risked violating fistfuls of regulations against fraternization. _Either way, things between us can't end well_, he concluded, a thought that made him angry enough to kick the workbench._ Maybe I shouldn't even try to –_

"What did that workbench ever do to you?"

He jumped backwards, tripping over his own feet and hitting the deck with a heavy clunk. Ilithia, leaning against the entryway from the ramp, doubled over and howled with laughter. "Elegant, Carth, truly elegant," she finally choked out as she walked over to help him up.

"You startled me," he protested, checking to make sure nothing was torn or missing.

"What can I say," she shrugged. "After all those hours with Bastila and the Jedi Masters I needed a laugh. You just happened to be a convenient target."

Carth groaned sympathetically. "That bad, huh?" Ilithia just shook her head. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She's staying in the Enclave," Ilithia replied, barely trying to conceal her relief, "Being a Jedi and all that."

"Speaking of which…" Carth said in a low, quiet voice. Ilithia glanced around, peering down passageways. "They're all asleep," he added.

Ilithia turned to look back at him. "Why aren't you?"

"Oh, I, uh, wasn't very tired," he lied, only to be faced with Ilithia's _yeah, right_ expression. "And I thought, maybe, when you got back…you might want somebody to talk to," he finished, stammering, his earlier certainty of belief melting into a sinking realization that it was foolish of him to have presumed such a thing.

The sheepish look on his face drew out a soft smile upon hers. "Thank you," she said warmly, not caring that the relieved grin he gave her in return was raising the temperature in the room. "Let's go somewhere we won't have to worry about waking the others."

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The topside of the _Ebon Hawk_ was surprisingly smooth, marred only by black scorch marks from Sith fighters. Night on Dantooine was cloudless and cool, with the occasional gentle breeze, tempting Ilithia to ask Carth if she could borrow his jacket. _He'd probably do it, even knowing he'd be the one shivering._

"Well?" Carth prompted her, sitting quickly on a large, flat area near the hatchway leading back into the ship. "How did it go with the Council?"

"It wasn't the full Council," she began, dropping down next to him. "They're on Coruscant. We met with four of them." Carth nodded, waiting. "We didn't spend much time talking about the Endar Spire or Taris – I guess Bastila must've included that in the messages she sent while we were on our way here."

Carth nodded impatiently. "And?"

She sighed, staring at a burn mark near one of her feet. "They did ask me to join."

"And what did you say?" Carth asked quickly, his jaw clenching.

"I said I would sleep on it," she replied, starting to trace a finger along the outline of the burn mark. "This is a big thing they're asking, and I wanted a little time to think about the consequences of saying 'yes'."

_Here it comes_. "What worries you about becoming a Jedi?" _And here I go_.

She gave a small, rueful laugh. "Well, the risk of death or serious bodily harm is pretty high these days – but no worse than it would be if I went back to the Fleet," she added. "There I'd be cannon fodder just sitting around my unit's quarters, waiting for the Sith to attack and not being able to do much of anything when they do, just like on the _Endar Spire_. At least as a Jedi, any fighting chance I'd have would be my own," she reasoned, looking up from the surface of the ship to gaze pensively at the darkness beyond the lights of the Enclave.

"Anything else?" Carth ventured, his voice tight.

Ilithia held back a grin. _He's really worried, isn't he?_ "They do seem a bit too…serious," she said, frowning slightly. "I know they've got very serious things on their minds, but still…after we left the Council I asked Bastila what she was going to do with the rest of the evening," she continued, leaning back until she rested on her elbows, her legs unfolded. "She said she would get some dinner in the dining hall, meditate in her room, and go to bed. No spacing out in front of the vidnet, no catching up with old friends – if she has any – nothing."

"I can't imagine you ever being that boring," Carth laughed, trying and failing to picture Bastila swooning over one of the hyped-up dating shows on the reality channel.

"Me neither," Ilithia replied with the same small laugh, letting her grin show. "So…I'm thinking of saying yes."

Carth paused, halfway towards stretching himself out next to her. "You are?"

"Oh come on," she smirked, "Who would turn down the chance to have a lightsaber?" Carth snorted with laughter, shaking his head. "And Force powers are nice, too, like being able to make things move just by thinking about it." Her smirk broadened into a teasing grin as she rolled onto one side to face him. "If you thought I was annoying on Taris…"

_That would be like her – to become a Jedi just because it would be fun_. "You weren't that bad," he demurred, moving until they were lying next to each other, face to face.

"Not that – " she spluttered disbelievingly. "You do remember what happens when I'm given a challenge, right?"

"I'm betting on it," he grinned, emboldened by lack of sleep rather than the second-class ale from the Hidden Bek base but no less determined to see her blushing and breathless. He leaned closer to her, reaching to touch her face as it colored –

– _Clad only in her bodysuit, Ilithia collapsed to the floor of a torture chamber, unconscious, her muscles still convulsing in time with the now-deactivated pain field. A Sith officer approached her, lowering his hand to brush a lock of hair from her face_ –

The image vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving Carth back on the _Ebon Hawk_. He jerked his hand away from Ilithia, frowning at it while she gave him a quizzical look. "What?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing," he said quickly, his collar starting to feel tight. _Even if I wanted to answer, I wouldn't know what to say_. "I'm just, uh, still sore from the fight, and that – that hurt."

She sighed, turning away from him to lie flat on her back. "That's a pretty lame lie, Carth. It's never really 'nothing' with you." _He was worried before, but this is something different._

"Ilithia…" The memory of visualizing her wounded and dying on the deck of a starship came back to him as he watched her movements. _I don't want that – I don't want either of these things to become real_. "This is isn't something you should do on a whim; this is serious." She closed her eyes, her lips pressed together into a slight frown. "We got by on Taris because we were just two unremarkable crewmembers," he continued, unbuttoning his jacket as he spoke. "As a Jedi…wherever you go the Sith are going to be after you. For you."

"I know," muttered darkly. "I said I wanted to find a more respectable way of getting killed – looks like I've hit the jackpot."

His hands shot out and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't say that!" he exclaimed fervently, worried both about her and the vehemence of his reaction. "Don't talk that way!"

"Carth…" She fought against the urge to push him away. "I promised I wouldn't be careless with my life or anyone else's. I'm going to stick to that." She laid a hand on his chest, feeling the soft pulse of his breathing through the thin fabric of his shirt.

He released one of her arms and covered her hand with his. "I know, I know…I'm just worried, that's all." _That you're putting yourself in danger – that I'm going to be left behind – that you're going to vanish into the life of a Jedi and I'll never see the Ilithia I met on Taris again_. He felt her nudge past the arm that was still holding her, tucking herself into an embrace. "I know this is your decision and I should trust your judgment, but this is all happening so fast…" _I just met you – I don't want to lose you before I get the chance to…_

_To what?_ He didn't know if he dared to ask himself that question yet; the answers might be…inconvenient. _She inconvenienced me enough on Taris_, he thought, as the scent of her hair wafted into his consciousness. _Always butting her nose into other people's business. Giving credits away like they grew on trees. All those damn questions. And –_

– She turned her head, moving closer to him to shelter against a cool gust of wind – accidentally brushing his neck with her lips.

The memory of her kiss shot through him like lightening, stealing his breath. _It was just drunken lust, _he told himself_, just a single night where we both got a little rowdy. There wasn't anything more to it, and there certainly won't be now. Deal with it._

"Carth?" she murmured, sending more waves of electricity skimming over his skin.

_Inhale, exhale, inhale…_ "Yea?"

"I'm not going to give up who I am to be a Jedi," she said quietly. "I'm not going to become like Bastila."

He rubbed a thumb along the length of the hand still resting on his chest. _She's so warm…so radiant…_he could almost see white light around her, swirling protectively over them in the dark night. "You never could be," he whispered, pulling her close.

_Damn their rules –__I'm not giving this up_. "For a long time I thought I knew how I wanted to live my life," she mused, snaking her other hand underneath Carth's jacket and tracing circles on his lower back. "Now…I'm starting to change my mind. Some things I thought I wanted no longer have any appeal for me, and other things that I didn't want turn out not to be so bad." She looked up at Carth, who had his eyes closed and wore a tight, tempted expression.

"Back on Taris," she continued, watching him, "Even in the middle of everything that was happening with Bastila, we still found the time to help some random people; really help them." _Not sure how much good we did in the long run, considering they're all dead now, but I guess it's the thought that counts_. "I liked that. I felt like I was really doing something worthwhile, something more than just showing up for my duty shift and drawing my paycheck. I think I can find that here, too." Carth let out a skeptical grunt. "What, you don't?"

Carth shook his head vigorously. "Whatever faith I had in the Jedi died when they refused to help the Republic after the Mandalorians attacked," he grumbled, resentment shining through his mistrust. "If there was ever a time for them to step up and help the ordinary people in this galaxy, that was it – and not only did they fail, but except for a few renegades with Revan and Malak the Jedi sat back and let hundreds of thousands of people die. And we all know how well that turned out," he muttered darkly.

"I can understand that," Ilithia said slowly. "But as someone who could have joined up to fight the Mandalorians, and didn't, I don't know that I'm in a position to judge."

"I was in the fight, and I am going to judge them," Carth snapped. "I don't trust them; not the Council, not the Jedi Masters here, not even Bastila. And I bet they're not offering to take you in out of the goodness of their hearts, either – they're up to something." _Why you – why now?_

She bit back a groan. _About time his paranoia showed up_. "They're losing Jedi to death and defection so fast if they don't start accepting Force sensitive adults for training there won't be any Jedi left to die or defect," she countered, tucking her head underneath his chin. "Maybe that doesn't qualify as 'the goodness of their hearts' but there's nothing suspicious about it, either."

"Maybe – but I still don't trust them," Carth replied curtly.

This time Ilithia let the groan out. "Well, then think of it this way: I'm not asking you to trust the Jedi. I'm asking you to trust me. Can you do that?" she asked, frustration rising in her voice.

"I don't know," he sighed, knowing it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. "I want to…" _So much…more than anything I've wanted for a long time_. "But I don't even know if I remember how to try."

"Tough," Ilithia snapped, yanking her hand from his and rolling away from him. "I've never had a time when I had any answers to try to remember, but I'm finding a way – forcing myself to try to do better, to be better." She scrambled to her feet. "If you want to wallow in the lonely little world you've built for yourself, that's your business. I'm getting out of mine."

"Ilithia, wait, I – " She dropped down the hatch back into the Ebon Hawk without a second glance. "Damn it!" he swore, banging a fist against the hull. _Every time I think I can get close to her, I do something to drive her away_.

_Maybe that's what I really want…to get rid of her before she gets rid of me. It'd be easier that way_.

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Bastila raised her blunt sparring sword to block Ilithia's blow, but as she braced herself for the impact of the other woman's blade she felt a bruising hit against her ribs. Opening her eyes, she saw Ilithia backing away, grinning – she'd switched directions in mid-swing, avoiding Bastila's defenses altogether."Excellent," Master Zhar called out from the far corner of the sparring room. A Twi'lek, he seemed to be in charge of the training programs on Dantooine, and had taken personal charge of Ilithia's training. "You sensed Bastila's intentions and changed your attack to exploit her weakness – but only when it was too late for her to sense your change and react to it."

"Lucky guess," Bastila muttered under her breath.

Ilithia's ears pricked up. "I thought you said there was no such thing as luck," she murmured in the Jedi's ear. A small squeal of surprise managed to escape Bastila's otherwise serene countenance. "Do you want to go again?"

"That's five in a row," Bastila grumbled, marching towards the dozens of sparring swords dangling from racks on the wall behind Master Zhar. "What am I going for – best out of eleven?"

"What, don't you think you can do it?" Ilithia teased.

Bastila slammed her sword into its slot so forcefully the other swords began to sway and rattle, an eerie wooden harmony filling the room. "No," she said, her jaw tight as she tried to calm herself," I do not." She turned to Master Zhar, who was regarding both ladies with a detached air. "It is late, Master, and if I am no longer needed I would like to retire to my rooms to meditate."

"Certainly," Zhar said with a slight bow. "Thank you for your help, Padawan Bastila." Bastila returned the bow, then hurried out of the room without a backwards glance at Ilithia, who was shaking her head with a combination of amusement and dismay. "What did you say to her this time?" Zhar enquired, tilting his head in Ilithia's direction.

She shrugged. "Nothing half as bad as what I said yesterday."

"Ah, yes," Zhar nodded, remembering. "The bit about preferring 'to have a Gamorrean in my bed than Bastila in my dreams' was rather…provocative."

"Yeah…" She couldn't keep a smile off her face as she recalled the image of Bastila turning as purple as a plum. The other Jedi Masters had only been slightly more subdued in their reactions; Master Vrook appeared angry enough to toss Ilithia out of the Council chambers, Master Vandar looked like he was about to lay an egg; Master Dorak was speechless for the next several minutes; and Master Zhar struggled keep himself from breaking out into peals of laughter. Which immediately endeared him to Ilithia. _A Jedi with a sense of humor…Carth wouldn't believe it_.

Her face twisted into a scowl. She'd been so upset by the dream that had awakened her yesterday morning that even though he was waiting for her by the _Ebon Hawk_'s gangway she'd rushed past him without a word. In fairness, she'd had a pretty rough night – first getting in a tiff with Carth, then dreaming about Malak and Revan. But she'd felt the hurt and regret in his feelings, trying to reach out to her even as she stormed away; that, and the gentle memory of his touch, had kept her awake most of last night.

"Your thoughts are troubled, apprentice," Zhar's softly modulated voice said.

"You try having a dream about Malak and Revan and see how settled your thoughts are," she muttered, her voice tense and ragged.

Rather than being insulted or upset, Zhar favored her with a sad smile. "I do dream about them," he said quietly. "Revan was my apprentice, my Padawan, when she and Malak were young and studying at our facilities on Coruscant."

Ilithia froze halfway towards hanging up her sword. "Oh."

"Padawan Bastila has told me you are already bored with the cautionary tales Master Vrook has told you of Revan and Malak's misdeeds," Zhar continued pleasantly, "So I will not burden you today with more. Suffice it to say that she was brilliant, fearless, insatiably curious, impatient, and strong-willed; and that in the end, the secrecy, strictures, and slowness of the Order proved impossible for her to bear." He turned away from Ilithia, straightening the hanging swords.

A whisper of guilt tickled at the back of Ilithia's mind. "You feel…responsible? For her fall?"

Zhar paused, then sighed. "It is natural for a teacher to look upon a student's failure as partially his own," he said simply.

_Too simple_. "And how is her failure also yours?"

"We saw her anger in its infancy," Zhar said, a slight rumble of anger rising in his own voice. "We knew its cause, and we should have predicted its effect." He shook his head, his lekku trembling. "The other members of the Council do not share my views, but I know we could have done more for her, to prepare her to combat the darkness that would inevitably find her."

Ilithia frowned. "From what I've heard, I doubt you could have saved her," she mused, seating herself on nearby bench to begin unfastening the shin and forearm guards she wore for sparring.

Zhar sat down next to her, heaving a heavy sigh. "We could have given her a fighting chance to save herself. We failed," he said mournfully. "I have always thought I owed her an apology for not helping her as I should have." Ilithia's forehead creased as her frown deepened, confused. "Which is why," the Twi'lek continued, his tone and his emotions evening out, "I wish to know what it was that troubled your thoughts a moment ago."

"Uh…" Feeling her cheeks beginning to tingle with a blush, Ilithia bent closer to her shin guards, hoping Zhar could not see her face. _Stall him!_ "W-why do you want to know?" she stammered, her embarrassment growing as she realized a Jedi Master would see through her feeble attempt to deflect his question.

"Even though you have only been training for two days now, it is clear that you will experience similar frustrations with the rules and rigidity of our Order as Revan did," Zhar said with a wry smile. "Especially if you do not learn to hold your tongue."

"Oh, I've no intention of doing that," Ilithia grinned, raising her head as she tossed the last shin guard aside. Zhar laughed, a clear, uncomplicated, joyful laugh. _Maybe he wouldn't be too bothered by the idea…_ "Can I ask why you think I'm going to have…well, 'issues' with the Order?" she asked.

The laugh faded into an understanding smile. "Many who have come to the Force later in their lives simply cannot conform themselves to our more intrusive restrictions," Zhar said, "They have special difficulty controlling their feelings to achieve the serene, emotionless state we believe is ideal." Ilithia nodded in acknowledgment, guilty as charged. "Often the weakness is a life led full of emotions that cannot be easily forgotten," Zhar continued, more cautiously. "You have that; but also, I believe, you have a particular weakness that wears an orange flight jacket and is currently brooding in the cockpit of your ship."

_That damned jacket again_. "We had a fight, two nights ago," she sighed, "About my thinking I would join the Jedi – well, not really about that," she corrected herself, her color rising. "The real problem is he doesn't trust me, or the Jedi, or anyone for that matter, and he's just doesn't seem willing to even try to change that –"

"Do you want him to trust you?" Zhar asked softly.

Ilithia knew she was blushing so hard her ears were probably purple. "Yes." Zhar's knowing smile flustered her even more. "I – I don't know why," she spluttered, jumping up and walking a few steps away, "But I do."

"Trust is built and destroyed through action," Zhar mused thoughtfully, remaining seated. _She cares for him, and he for her. This could be…interesting_.

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "Or, more to the point, tell him."

Zhar stood. "You were not comfortable here in the Enclave last night, were you?"

Ilithia frowned at yet another sudden change of subject. "Actually, no," she admitted. "All these Jedi…it kind of made my skin crawl. Plus I was – I was thinking about Carth," she added, wondering what color could be darker than purple. "I didn't sleep at all."

"You will need peace of mind and spirit to focus on your studies," Zhar said. "So perhaps you should be where you are most comfortable," Zhar suggested blandly.

Her eyes widened. _He's not mad?_ "Okay," she said meekly.

The Twi'lek took his apprentice by one arm and began walking her towards the exit to the hall. "But do not forget that you and Bastila share a special bond," Zhar said. "Do not be afraid to turn to her for help with this, or anything else that may trouble you."

"I preferred the Gamorrean because I could kick him out," Ilithia mumbled, unenthusiastic.

Zhar's clear laugh rang out a second time. "We broke many rules to bring you here, apprentice Ilithia. And I suspect over the course of your time as a Jedi, we will probably have to break a few more." She smiled at him gratefully, then passed through the doors and strode quickly down the hall, turning not left towards the dormitories but right, towards the hangar bay.

"You should not encourage her." Bastila's aristocratic voice cut through the shadows effortlessly. "She is reckless and disobedient enough without her entanglement with Captain Onasi. Master Vrook – "

"Does not know her," Zhar interrupted harshly, "Neither as she was nor as she is. She will need help from someone, help she did not have before. She will need a reason not to fall. It is a risk; but so is everything else about her." Bastila opened her mouth to protest but Zhar cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Her care and guidance may be your responsibility once you have departed from here, but while she is here it is mine." The young woman executed a halfhearted, perfunctory bow, then hurried away towards the dormitories. _I do not care what the rest of the Council says – we must prepare a way for her to survive the evil she will soon face._

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Ilithia was halfway up the ramp leading to the docking bay when it occurred to her that she'd probably have to say something vaguely conciliatory to Carth. _Sorry for getting mad when you started acting like a suspicious git; which you have a right to be. I'm trying to overcome four years' worth of anger and pain, and I've only known him for a little over a week – be realistic. Give him time_, she reminded herself, passing through the doors to exit the Enclave. _Give him a reason_.

The _Ebon Hawk_ was already closed up for the night, with the gangway sealed up into the hull and the running lights off. Mission, Zaalbar, and Canderous had thus far failed to find a cantina within fifty miles of the Enclave, so evenings ended early for them, and ended on the ship. She strode up to the ramp, raising her hand to knock, then lowered it, blushing foolishly. _Like they'll hear that – if anyone's still awake to hear it_, she thought chidingly, slinging her bulging pack off her shoulder and starting to dig among the dozens of Jedi datapads for her communicator.

Just as her fingers closed around the small device, the ramp sprang open with a crash, gears creaking as it descended towards the ground. Light from inside the ship streamed out, forcing Ilithia to drop her pack and shield her eyes.

"I thought you were staying with the Jedi," a familiar tenor voice called out.

He was standing near the top of the ramp, leaning against the wall with one arm cocked above his head and the other hanging down at his side. His jacket hung open, exposing the thin brown fabric of his bodysuit stretched tight over his chest. Ilithia's breath fled her lungs as a surge of warmth chased away the feel of the night air. _Oh…_

"Seeing as how you are one of them now," Carth added, trying to be angry but sounding more wounded than anything.

"Actually, I'm not yet," she said, finding her voice as she reached down to pick her pack up. "They won't even give me a lightsaber until I finish basic training."

Carth grunted. "And how long is that going to take?"

"They've got me on an accelerated training program, but still…" She shrugged, walking a few steps up the ramp and leaning against the wall opposite Carth. "I'd guess I could be done in a few months."

"A few months?!" he exclaimed, taking an angry step towards her. "Are you telling me I'm going to be stuck here on this sleeper of a planet for a few months while Saul –" He broke off, turning away.

_While Saul is out there, alive and well, and doing to some other poor planet what he did to Taris and Telos_. "What do you mean, 'stuck here'?"

"I got my orders from the Fleet," Carth sighed, gazing sullenly at the ground. "I'm to stay here on Dantooine until you're done with this basic training." Ilithia's lips formed a silent "oh." A frown creased his face. "You are still training, aren't you?"

Ilithia nodded quickly. "Oh, yes – I just don't want to stay there anymore." She started walking slowly up into the ship.

"Why not?" Carth asked, falling into step beside her.

"I just felt…uncomfortable," she said, rounding the corner into the central room dropping down into a nearby seat. "It's hard to explain."

Carth was not impressed. "Try."

She sighed, lifting up her pack and setting it on the table. "It was too quiet, too serious, too…Jedi," she started, frowning in thought. "All that striving to be serene and passionless has driven out all emotion, both out of themselves and out of that place. It feels like there's no life there – minds, yes, but no heart, no soul." She shook her head, slumping back in her seat.

"Didn't Bastila say they have real water showers in the Enclave?" he asked slowly.

She closed her eyes, smiling. "Spacious, multi-nozzled water showers in private bathrooms."

"And real beds instead of bunks?" Carth added, starting to sprout a teasing grin.

Ilithia sighed dramatically. "Huge, warm, comfy beds." _Though my feet were still iceblocks_.

Carth sank into a seat near Ilithia. "And three-course, square meals rather than the slop out of our synthesizer?"

"I'm not giving up the dining hall," she smirked, cracking one eye open. "And I'll talk with Master Zhar to see if I can't get you guys in." Carth laughed, shaking his head. "But after two days in the passionless purgatory, I've realized I'm going to need to be able to come back to the normal craziness on this bucket of bolts to keep me sane."

"Always happy to oblige," Carth said, grinning.

Instead of returning the grin, Ilithia frowned, offended. "You shouldn't consider me an obligation," she muttered.

"No – I meant – it's no trouble," Carth stammered, starting to blush. "I – I – " He gave up, dropping his heads into his hands and laughing. "I just can't seem to string two sentences together around you sometimes without saying something incredibly brainless." _Or revealing_.

Her momentary dismay faded away. "I know," she said gently, starting to smile. "It's one of your more endearing qualities." Carth's blush grew from a light pink into a full-fledged crimson. "Listen, Carth," she began, turning to face him more directly, "I want to say that I'm…I'm sorry about the other night. I overreacted and got mad when I should've known better."

Carth sat silently for a long moment, trying to process what he'd just heard. _Sorry…should've known…_ "Huh?" he finally grunted, blinking.

_Men_. "You've a perfectly good right to hold back your trust, and I forgot that." Understanding dawned on Carth's face. "Just because I feel myself changing so quickly, and surprisingly easily –" _the only thing that's difficult around you is you_ – "I shouldn't expect that of you."

"No, you should." _Leave it to Ilithia to say something that sounds like both an apology and an insult at the same time_. "After everything we went through on Taris, you do have a right to expect that I would be at least a little less suspicious of you – and I'm trying to be," he sighed, running one hand through his hair. "It's just been so long, and I'm…I'm just trying to get used to the idea," he finished, raising his eyes to hers in a silent petition for patience.

"The idea of what – trusting me?" she asked with a mildly puzzled smile.

_And holding you, kissing you, wanting you, having you…_ "Of you," he replied simply. "I just need time."

"I understand," she said. "I know all I can ask for is a chance to prove I'm worth the risk, so…thank you."

They held each other's gaze for a few more moments before Carth hauled himself up out of his seat, groaning. "I should probably get some sleep," he said reluctantly. "I don't think I've slept a whole night through since we got here."

"Me neither," Ilithia sighed, reaching for her pack. "Nor am I likely to if I want to get this training over with as quickly as possible." Nearly a dozen datapads spilled out onto the table. She reached for the one nearest too her and up its content menu. "Theories of Force Transference," she read with distaste.

"I always hated homework, too," Carth reassured her, chuckling. "Though my last year at the Academy I did buckle down to make sure my grades were high enough to get me into flight school." He gave her an encouraging pat on one shoulder, and was about to head for his bunk when he stopped, a mischievous idea racing through his mind. "Tell you what," he said slowly, "I bet, if you really put your mind to it, you can finish your initial training in…six weeks."

Ilithia paused her reading to fix Carth with a skeptical look. "That's quite a challenge. What do I get if I win?" she purred, arching her eyebrows dangerously.

"Wouldn't you like to find out," Carth replied teasingly, giving her the lopsided, cheeky smile that always got under her skin.

She rose to his bait once again. "As a matter of fact, I would."

He turned back to her, raising one hand up towards her face. "Your chance," he whispered as his fingers brushed against her skin, tracing the outline of her jaw down to her chin. When his hand had completed its journey he backed away and walked towards the passageway, giving her one last, lingering glance before following the hall to his bunk, and the first naturally peaceful and dreamless sleep he'd had in years.

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The hissing snap of a lightsaber igniting filled the _Ebon Hawk_'s central room as the blue blade sprang to life. "A Jedi Guardian," Ilithia said, flourishing her new weapon, "Focusing mainly on physical training and combat skills." She began moving fluidly through a series of fighting stances, grinning with every gasp the saber's lastest swoop produced from Mission. "They even taught me how to cover the distance from where I am to where my target is in a single jump, even if they're up to a hundred feet away."

"I should've known you'd find a way to get to a fight faster," Carth mumbled from his seat behind where Ilithia stood. It was quite an impressive move, but it took Canderous and him a minute or so to catch up with her and the kath hounds surrounding her – too much like what had happened to her in the Undercity for Carth's comfort.

She turned her head back far enough to give him a half-hearted dirty look. "It also hurts my target twice as much as a normal attack – I was killing kath hounds with a single leap."

"You should have seen it," Canderous said approvingly, striding in from the workroom. "She had a Mandalorian on his knees, gasping for breath in thirty seconds flat."

_She doesn't need a lightsaber for that_, Carth thought, trying once again to ignore a sudden flash of the memory of Ilithia's kiss. She'd met his challenge, completing her training and being awarded her lightsaber and the rank of Padawan earlier that morning, less than five weeks since arriving on Dantooine. _It's official now…she's a Jedi, and I'm on the hook_.

"So why are you guys back so soon, then?" Mission asked cheerfully. "I thought you had a grove to prune."

"Purify," Ilithia corrected her with a chuckle. "And that's done."

Mission blinked, then beamed. "Already? Wow!"

Ilithia shrugged, dropping into a nearby seat. "The 'taint' turned out to be another Jedi who thought she'd fallen to the dark side – she attacked me, but quit when she decided she couldn't win. She regretted what she'd done, so I talked her into coming back to the Enclave to see if she can be redeemed," she said, marveling internally at what she'd done. Being a Jedi was still a surreal enough concept – thinking that she'd won her first fight against someone with a lightsaber, and possibly turned her from the dark side back to the light was just…weird. _But this is what I signed up for…this is my life now_.

"Wow," Mission repeated, her eyes widening. "So you're done then – you're really a Jedi now?"

Carth jumped in before Ilithia could respond. "Yep," he said, trying to cover his anxiety with cheerfulness. "She's really a Jedi."

_I keep my promise and finish ahead of the ridiculous schedule he set, and he's still treating me like I'm going to sprout horns_. "Anyhow," she said, turning to Mission, "We're back because there are some Mandalorian raiders out there, making life even more difficult for the local farmers than it already is, and I wanted to upgrade our weapons and armor before heading back out to finish them off." Canderous stirred uncomfortably off on the side, but said nothing.

"Then," Ilithia continued, "When we took Juhani – the Jedi from the grove – back to the Council, they not only asked me to go investigate some ancient ruins out on the plains, but also to check out a local landowner's complaint that his son has been kidnapped." She got up out of her seat, stretching the muscles in her back as she went. "I'm going to go add those crystals we found in the cave to my lightsaber, and then we'll go, okay guys?"

Canderous gave her a curt, martial nod. "Sure," Carth barked, staring awkwardly at the deck. Ilithia gritted her teeth to keep herself from rolling her eyes all the way into the back of her head, then turned and headed for the workroom.

_It's put up or shut up time, Onasi_, Carth thought with a sigh, stretching in his seat to give his muscles a few minutes rest. He hadn't had much time to talk with Ilithia over the last few weeks, or even see her; his challenge had led her to push herself to study and practice so much she'd barely slept an hour or two each night, with only a few minutes in between each exercise for conversation. Even so, those few minutes were what kept him going through the hours of boredom they interrupted; a smile, a joke, a sarcastic observation, and all the other things that were so…Ilithia.

"You fought in the Mandalorian Wars, didn't you?"

Carth started at the sound of Canderous' voice. The Mandalorian hadn't talked much to anyone since their arrival on Dantooine. He'd seen him exchange a few words with Ilithia earlier that day, after they'd dealt with the first group of Mandalorian raiders, but other than that he couldn't recall the last time Canderous had started a conversation. "Yea," he barked, his eyes narrowing apprehensively.

Canderous nodded thoughtfully. "We may have faced each other in combat," he said evenly. "What battles were you in?"

"I try not to think about my past battles too much," Carth said quickly, looking away. "The horrors of war are something I'd rather not relive."

A sharp, scornful laugh came from the Mandalorian. "The 'horrors' of war?" Carth's face twisted. "I'm disappointed – I thought a warrior like you would understand," Canderous mused, regarding Carth with a mildly puzzled air.

"I'm not a warrior, I'm a solider – there's a difference," Carth snapped, coloring.

"I accept who and what I am," Canderous said simply, shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't have to justify it with words – victory in battle is my justification."

"Really?" Carth said harshly. "So what happens when you lose? You know, like you did against us."

The Mandalorian flushed almost imperceptibly. "You had us outnumbered five to one," he growled. "More ships, more troops, more supplies and the Jedi on your side – not that any but Revan were any help. And we still made the Republic tremble before we fell!" he finished, eyes flashing with memory.

Carth snorted derisively. "Nice speech; I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. I don't want to talk about this anymore, Canderous. The war is over. You lost."

The Mandalorian's eyes narrowed angrily. "We –"

"Hey, Canderous?" Ilithia's head popped around the corner of the passageway leading to the workroom. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Yes," he growled, continuing to glare blaster bolts at Carth.

"I forgot to mention that the Council wanted Bastila to come along when we get to the ruins," she said. "I say we grab her now so we don't have to come back for her when we're ready. So would you mind going into the Enclave and picking her up?" Her tone was light and cheerful, oblivious to the anger simmering between the two men.

A few moments ticked by before Canderous broke off the staring contest with Carth, turning towards Ilithia. "Fine," he said, curt but polite. "We'll wait for you out in the courtyard."

"Thanks," she said as he moved past her, heading for the ramp. She waited silently until she heard the metallic thump of his boots on the deck vanish, then glanced over at Carth. "About time you two had it out," she chuckled.

"Why, so I could graduate from merely being wary of Canderous to actively disliking him?" Carth muttered.

Ilithia shook her head, letting a single, soft laugh escape. "No, so the two of you could get that discussion about the war out of your way and get on with being civil to each other."

"Civil!" Carth spat, scrambling out of his seat and advancing towards Ilithia. "To a Mandalorian – never! I lost way too many friends in that war to ever buddy up with one of those heartless bastards!"

"Hey, relax," she said quickly, backing up a few steps. "I don't expect you to buddy around with him – just try not to be rude. You can try, can't you?" she asked, her tone suddenly growing frostier with every word.

_This isn't about Canderous anymore_. "Yes," he replied, sighing exasperatedly. She nodded curtly in response, then turned and headed back into the workroom. He watched her take up one of the two halves of her lightsaber into her hands, adjusting a crystal sitting inside. _Go in there after her…go on_... "Why is he still here, anyway?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her.

"I'm not sure – he hasn't said," she said, bending down in concentration. "But I know enough about Mandalorians to know they don't waste their breath on you unless they think you've proved worthy of their time and attention, usually in combat."

"Well, yea – that's why he approached you on Taris," Carth said, coming closer.

He saw her smile and give a small nod. "And why he's starting to talk to you now. It's a sign of respect for the way you fought this morning."

"Oh." _That…will require more thought than I'm willing to put into it right now_. He walked up behind Ilithia until he stood close enough to see each individual hair on the back of her neck. _It's go time_. "What're you doing there, beautiful?"

She tried to hide her blush. "Adding a crystal with stunning properties," she replied, tightening a screw.

He waited until she set the re-assembled saber on the workbench, then lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. "Listen," he said, smiling as Ilithia started in surprise at his touch, "I just want to say that everything you've done over the last few weeks, and the things you've done just this morning…well, you've been pretty damn impressive."

Ilithia tried to run through one of the calming exercises Master Zhar had taught her as part of her training in meditation and mental discipline. _Concentrate on your breathing…_ "Th – thanks."

"You did what you said you were going to do," Carth continued, sliding his hands off her shoulders and slowly down her arms. "You even did better than you said you would." He took half a step closer to her.

"As soon as we've finished things today I'm going to sleep for a week," she said, feeling a warm pulse of his breath on her neck. _So much for concentration._

Carth's hands left her arms and circled around her waist, turning her around to face him. "You did good," he said, grinning. "Who knows – you may just make a proper Jedi yet."

She reached up and brushed a few stray locks of hair away from his forehead, letting her fingers skim along his skin as they went. _I hope not_. "Would you really want me to be?"

A shiver ran through him, his skin tingling long after her touch had moved on. "Not really," he whispered. _I don't care how big of a risk this is_, he thought, bending his head toward hers. _She's worth it_. His eyes locked on her lips –

"I see I'm interrupting."

Carth jumped back at the sound of Bastila's prudish voice. Ilithia frowned, but did not appear surprised. "I thought I asked you to wait with Canderous in the courtyard," she hissed.

"I sensed a disturbance in the Force," Bastila sniffed. "I thought it best to intervene to prevent the disturbance from becoming a mistake."

Ilithia rolled her eyes, clenching her hands into fists. "Thank you for your concern, Bastila," she said slowly, trying to purge a little more anger from her mind with each word. "Please go wait in the courtyard. We'll be along shortly." She turned back to the workbench to retrieve her lightsaber.

_You are a Jedi now – you must not give in to your emotions, no matter how_ –

"If you have anything to say then you say it out loud," Ilithia snarled, whirling back around to glare at Bastila with an icy rage. "I don't care if you pull this 'bond' crap when it's just the two of us, but don't do it around them."

The two women stared at each other for a long moment, Ilithia almost trembling with anger, Bastila steadfast in her displeasure. Finally, the younger Jedi blinked. "We'll be waiting," she snapped, turning quickly on her heel and striding back off the ship.

"Bond?" Carth asked, frowning at Bastila's back.

"The Masters said Bastila and I share some 'bond'," she sighed disbelievingly, reaching back to grasp her lightsaber. "That's probably how she sensed –" _that we were this close_ – "Whatever it was she sensed. They said we're especially sensitive to each other, though of course they can't tell us anything about how it happened or what it means."

"Of course not," he grunted, turning back to her. "Which probably means they do know and they just don't want to tell you."

Ilithia let out a small, short laugh. "Paranoid, much?"

Carth grinned, spreading his arms wide. "Just a bit." Ilithia laughed, louder and longer, clipping her lightsaber to her belt. "About the Jedi," he continued, "But not about you."

She froze, fixing him with a curiously cautious gaze. _That was…abrupt_. "I'm a Jedi too, Carth." _Let's make him work for this_.

"But you're not one of those Jedi," he amended, flushing. "You're…you're you." Ilithia leaned back against the workbench, an amused smile twitching at her lips. "You're not even wearing Jedi robes," he added lamely. _Smooth, Onasi, real smooth_.

"They feel too thin," she shrugged, her smile growing into a grin. "I can't move around in this armor as much as I'd like, so I might ditch it eventually if it gets in the way of using all my Force powers, but for now I'll stick with what I'm familiar with. Besides," she continued, her grin spreading to inject a playful gleam in her eyes, "How else would you pick me out of a crowd of Jedi?"

"I usually look for your hair," he mumbled sheepishly. There weren't many redheads in the galaxy – more on Corellia than anywhere else, but still just a handful. He was about to murmur something conciliatory when he noticed Ilithia's face had turned as red as her hair. "I meant what I said, about not being worried about you," he said, seizing the opportunity her silence gave him. "I'm not completely there – not even close – but I want you to know that things are changing."

Ilithia nodded understandingly. "No more holes burned into the back of my armor by your eyes, then?"

"Well, maybe," he replied, giving her his suggestively playful grin. "But for different reasons." _Such as remembering what you looked like when your armor was on the floor_.

"Thanks for the warning," Ilithia chuckled, stepping away from the workbench. "We'd probably better get going," she sighed unenthusiastically. Carth nodded, tightening his holster belt. "Finish off the Mandalorians, find the missing kid, then see what's so special about these ruins."

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"You're still limping."

Ilithia scowled, but didn't stop to look back at Carth. "I'm fine."

"Are you out of medpacs?" he asked, moving his pack off his shoulder so he could reach inside. "That was a pretty hard kick."

"I can use the Force to heal myself now, remember – not that I need to, because I'm fine," she said flatly. _Actually, my foot is killing me, and I'm too exhausted to heal it right now; but I'll be damned if I'll waste a medpac on my stupidity and there's no way in hell I'm asking Bastila to heal it_. She had kicked the first of the two ancient computers they found inside the ruins pretty hard, fueled by frustration at not being able to use it, combined with the adrenaline and stress from battling a flame-throwing droid to get to it in the first place. All that produced was a sharp, stabbing pain in her foot that still throbbed even as they came into sight of the Jedi Enclave. _ I'll never live this down if it's broken._

That computer and its counterpart had eventually given way, unlocking the door to the very furthest chamber. Seeing stars from the fiery pain coursing through her nerves, Ilithia hadn't recognized the antechamber as the room from the vision she and Bastila had shared just after arriving on Dantooine until the younger Jedi came to a dead halt, sickly pale. "This is the room we saw in our dream," Bastila had whispered fearfully. "Revan and Malak began their journey to the dark side in this place."

"Well, come on then," Ilithia had growled through clenched teeth. A strange, disconcerting feeling started creeping up her spine. "Let's go find out what this terrible thing is." She strode quickly up to the next set of doors, pausing only a moment to let them slide out of her way.

A three-pronged, obelisk-like structure different from anything Ilithia had ever seen before dominated the room. The creeping sensation that had begun in the antechamber spread, masking the pain. When she had been almost close enough to reach out and touch one of the columns, a mechanical whirring began, and the three columns slowly folded back. Three smaller, triangular shapes popped up in the base, generating a glowing green light. A sphere rose from the center of those shapes, unsupported and moving of its own will, giving off a single burst of light. Ilithia shielded her eyes and looked away until the brightness faded, then gazed in wonderment at the galactic map shimmering in mid-air around the sphere.

_It was strangely beautiful_, she remembered, as they stepped onto the paved floor of the courtyard. She'd stood, mesmerized, until Bastila has started talking about Revan and Malak, adding a feeling of morbidity to Ilithia's already unsettled emotions. _Get the coordinates, get out of here, get off my foot_, she'd thought, panicking. She groped frantically for her datapad, punching the information in with shaking fingers as Bastila prattled on obliviously about the planets identifi –

_We must go see the Masters immediately_.

Ilithia jerked to a stop, her mind whipsawing back into the present moment at the sound of Bastila's voice in her mind. "What did I tell you about doing that around the others?"

The younger Jedi flushed angrily as Carth and Canderous exchanged nervous glances. "They must be informed of Nemo's death, and the sooner they know what we have found the quicker they can decide what course of action to take." _You are a Jedi now_, she sent to Ilithia. _We are different from the others. They do not need to know our every intention_.

"Keeping a secret is just the flip side of telling a lie," Ilithia snapped. "No matter how special you think we are, that is not something I am going to do." She turned away from Bastila, locking eyes with Carth. "Bastila wants to immediately go and tell the Masters what we've found, for the reasons she just stated – and I agree." The younger woman frowned, confused, but Ilithia either didn't notice or didn't care. "I don't know how long this might take, so you two should probably go back to the ship, and I'll catch up with you later."

"Fine by me," Canderous grunted, slinging his blaster over his back. "Just remember to ask those old fossils when they're going to let the rest of us leave."

Ilithia nodded. "Sure thing." The Mandalorian threw a contemptuous glance at Bastila and an only slightly more respectful one at Carth, then strode away.

Carth had Ilithia by the elbow before she could even turn to ask him his plans. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked quietly.

"Of course – Bastila, go on ahead," she said. "I'll be there in a minute." Bastila's frown darkened, but she pivoted about and passed through the doors into the Enclave without a word.

He pulled Ilithia off to one side, bending down to speak softly into her ear. "Does anything about this strike you as a little…off?"

She frowned. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little weirded out to have walked in the same place as Revan and Malak – not to mention how much stranger having dreamed about that place now seems," she added. Carth's expression changed to match hers – _I never told him about the dream_. "Oh – I'll tell you later – I thought it was nothing, but…now, I don't know." She sighed and began moving slowly towards the doors. "I thought it was just evidence of this bond Bastila and I are supposed to have."

"Do you believe in this 'bond'?" Carth asked, moving alongside her.

Ilithia shrugged as the doors slid open. "Maybe. It – it does feel different than how I relate to other Jedi, except for Master Zhar, who always seems to know what everyone is thinking," she said, coloring with the embarrassment of admitting any such connection to the little brat. "Anyhow, um, I guess I'll see you back at the ship."

Carth shook his head, catching her arm before she could walk away. "Somebody has to stick around to help you limp back to the ship on that broken foot of yours."

"Oh," she said, flushing a deeper shade of red. "You noticed?"

_I always notice the way you move_. "Yeah – do you want to take a second to try to heal it before we go?" he asked, smiling gently.

A moment's concentration and it was done. "I'll need to work on it a little more later, but I'll be able to stand," she said. "Thanks."

"I won't tell a soul," he replied, shifting his grip on her arm until he held it gently, like an escort. "Shall we?" Blushing, Ilithia nodded, and they began to slowly make heir way towards the Council chamber as Carth used his movement to draw her closer to him. "You be careful in there, you hear?"

"Yes, sir," she chuckled, grinning. "And I'll try to speed them up as best I can."

The doors to the chamber came into sight, standing open, the Masters waiting inside with Bastila, who was tapping one foot impatiently. "I'll be waiting," Carth said, glancing warily at the rough wooden bench opposite the doors.

Seized by a sudden impulse unlike any she'd felt before, Ilithia leaned over and planted a swift kiss on Carth's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes glittering, before backing away into the chambers and vanishing when the doors swished shut between them.

_Beautiful_, Carth thought, collapsing onto the bench. _I shouldn't have been worried about those old men messing with you…if they ever get a full dose of you they won't know what hit them_. He settled himself against the wall, finally feeling the stress and fatigue of having spent all day blasting kath hounds and droids. _I'll just close my eyes for a few seconds, just to rest…_

He opened his eyes to the sight of soft waves of auburn hair spilling out over his pillow. They had fallen asleep as they lay when their lovemaking was done – naked, embracing, everything still joined and intertwined. She stirred, and the strength and truth of the love in her eyes combined with the sensation of her movements to leave him breathless. "Hey handsome," she whispered, combing a few stray locks of hair away from his eyes.

"Mmmm, beautiful," he purred, tightening his hold on her body and kissing her forehead. "Is it morning yet?"

"Technically yes," she replied. "But the sun won't rise for several hours."

He grinned, letting his eyes roam over her form before returning to meet her gaze. "More time for us," he growled happily. She settled herself close against him, sighing her approval. "Do you know if all the others are back from the party yet?" _We'll really have to try to keep it down if Mission's on board._

She laughed – _does he never stop worrying about anything?_ "They're all here, sound asleep – in spite of Canderous getting into a drinking contest with an entire squad of assault troopers. Zaalbar had to scare them away when they tried to pick a fight after losing," she said, sniggering.

"Just exactly how do you know that?" he teased – they hadn't left the bedroom since they'd entered it the night before. "Exhausted me and then snuck out, or some Jedi trick I haven't heard of yet?"

"I did use to Force," she nodded solemnly. "To turn on the intercom in receive only mode."

It was his turn to laugh – _is there no end to her curiosity?_ "Remind me never to try to keep a secret from you."

She reached a hand up to caress his face. "I don't think I'll ever need to," she said simply. "You remember how mad I was at Bastila when the truth came out."

"I do," he said softly, a shiver running through his body. There had been so much pain and anger in her eyes, for a moment he'd thought…"You won't ever have a reason to be that angry with me." A kiss sealed the promise. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered in reply, brushing her lips against his cheek before resuming their kiss.

His muscles protested, already aching from two rounds of vigorous activity after four years of dormancy, but Carth ignored their cries. _Get used to it_, he thought, as she moaned and began to move with him. _For as long as we both live, neither one of us is letting go…_

…beep…beep…beep…

_What the…ah, blast it!_ Carth jerked awake, fumbling for his insistent communicator. He was flushed, breathing heavily, and – he quickly snatched up his pack and dropped it into his lap, blushing even more furiously.

The red light on the communicator was blinking – a Priority One message. _Hell…_ "This is Captain Onasi."

"Carth, at last!" Admiral Dodonna's voice cried. "I was beginning to the think the Jedi had jammers on Dantooine."

_How long was I asleep?_ "No, but communications are a bit unreliable all the way out here, Admiral." He cleared his throat – it was true, even if it wasn't the reason for this delay. "At any rate, what's going on?"

"I have some new orders for you, Carth," the Admiral replied, her tone suddenly somber and formal. "And I don't think you'll like them."

A chill settled in his blood. A few weeks ago all he wanted was another ship, another shot at Saul. _But now…Ilithia…don't think about the dream!_ "Go ahead," he said quietly.

"The Jedi Council has…requested," she began, in a tone that told him they had attempted to compel, "That you be assigned to remain with Padawans Bastila and Ilithia as they search for these Star Maps." She sniffed in displeasure.

"Oh." The Council hadn't even finished giving his companions their mission yet – _this is too fast, even for the Jedi_.

Dodonna sighed. "I know you'd rather be back out on the front lines, Carth, but –"

"It's alright, Admiral," Carth interjected. "If these are my orders, I'll be happy to carry them out."

There was a moment's silence on the other end. "They don't have to be your orders, Carth…say the word and the captain's chair of the _Endor Star_ is yours."

Carth paused, frowning at the communicator. Admiral Dodonna usually made a decision and then told you what it was – he couldn't ever remember being given a chance to get out of an assignment. "Admiral," he ventured quietly, "What did the Jedi tell you about this mission?"

"They, uh –" He could hear her embarrassment at being caught out – "They said your skills as a pilot would doubtless prove useful," she finished, composure regained.

"And?"

The Admiral paused for a long moment. "Master Zhar said that Padawan Ilithia has come to rely upon your aid and friendship, and that depriving her of such support as she embarks upon this perilous journey would be dangerous."

"And?"

"And nothing," Dodonna snapped. "What the Jedi or your shipmates choose to tell you is one thing, but I have nothing further to day. Will you accept the assignment or not?"

_There is something else, some danger the Council doesn't want to reveal…maybe to Dodonna, maybe even Bastila, but not to me. And certainly not to Ilithia_. He sighed, throwing a nasty glare at the doors to the Council's chamber, wondering how a common soldier could even pretend to protect a Jedi.

_I love you…_

"I'll take it, Admiral." _What I saw is something that can happen, a future we could have; but only if I'm there to keep her safe._

"Are you sure?" The Admiral's disbelief was palpable. "I know how important it's been to you to be on the front lines."

_To be chasing after Saul_. "I'm sure, Admiral." _It's just postponed, not abandoned. After four years, a_ _few weeks wouldn't change the inevitable_. "When do we leave?"

"You'll have to ask Padawan Ilithia – she's nominally in command of this mission," Dodonna said.

_Well, she can't possibly do any worse than Bastila_. "Alright then, Admiral," Carth said, standing and stretching. "I'll see you on the flip side."

"Carth – " Admiral Dodonna started to say something, but stopped, as if trying to figure out what she could say without betraying whatever secret she knew. "Stick to your usual habits," she finally said. "And be careful."

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"We'll head for Kashyyyk first," Ilithia said, pointing at the planet's location on the Ebon Hawk's cockpit navigation display. "It's Czerka-controlled, like Tatooine, so I don't expect too many Sith to be there."

Carth nodded. "The easier a start we get, the better. I suppose you picked Kashyyyk first because we've got a local on board?"

"Yea." She leaned back against an instrument panel, frowining. "He still won't even tell Mission why he left, though, which has me a bit worried."

He tried to grin confidently. "It probably means trouble, but I'm sure it's nothing three Jedi, two blaster boys and a sneaky Twi'lek couldn't handle." Juhani, the Jedi they'd encountered in the Grove, had requested and been granted permission to join the hunt for the Star Maps. She'd brought her things on board that morning, but hadn't yet said anything to anyone who wasn't Ilithia.

Her eyes darkened. "Four planets, countless Sith, an endless fleet – Saul – probably several dozen dark Jedi, this…Star Forge, and Darth Malak waiting for us at the end." She flopped down into the pilot's chair, sighing. "It sounded like a suicide mission to me yesterday and it still does."

He was moving to stand behind the chair when he saw her prop one leg up on the armrest. His skin immediately began to tingle, remembering the feeling of her bare legs sliding against his in the dream. _Not a real memory_, he reminded himself, looking away before she would notice the flush spreading across his face, _just a dream_ – but it felt real, so warm and smooth…

Ilithia had stayed over one more night on Dantooine, to fill up on supplies and ensure the ship was in perfect shape. Carth didn't sleep much that night, and it was looking like he wouldn't sleep much tonight either. The dream hadn't recurred, but his memory of the dream was what tormented him, tempting him. He remembered the joy in their kiss, the love in her eyes, the taste of her skin – sensations so powerful he couldn't bear to look at her when the memories flashed through his mind, afraid she would sense his thoughts. _But what am I more afraid of_, he wondered – _that she'd be embarrassed or mad and reject me, or that she'd like the idea of kissing me, of sleeping with me…of loving me._

"Are you alright?" He jumped at the touch of her hand on his arm.

"Yea," he said quickly. _Is she that good or am I that bad?_ "Stray thoughts. It's nothing."

She made a skeptical noise. "So I should pester you with questions about it later, right?"

_I am that obvious – to her_. "No, it's just that I –"

"Whenever you two have finished your chat," Bastila's haughty voice cut in, "The rest of us are ready to leave."

Ilithia neither removed her hand from Carth's arm, nor turned to look at the other Jedi. "Thank you, Bastila," she said, in what Carth recognized as the tone she'd used on Taris when she was trying to talk herself out of physically assaulting someone. Bastila must have also picked up on the negativity of Ilithia's words, moving off quietly after throwing one last glare at both of them.

"I thought you said she wasn't so bad," he muttered.

"She wasn't – when she wasn't either trying to lord her Battle Meditation over everyone and be in charge or preaching Jedi nonsense," Ilithia replied, disappointed. "She's been trying to do both since yesterday."

_The Jedi ice princess, back on the prowl_. "Great." He'd spent many of the last several hours trying to puzzle out what the Ilithia in his dream had meant when she'd talked about being mad at Bastila when some truth had – would – come out. Admiral Dodonna's behavior had only magnified his concerns. _Ilithia expects honesty, so any lie would anger her, but this is different – this is something big_.

"Yeah, well, don't let her get to you," she replied briskly, patting his arm. _Serenity…c'mon Ilithia, start being serene_. "She's my problem."

She stood, and started to walk past Carth to exit the cockpit, but he grasped her arm, holding her back with a gentle firmness. "But that makes you her problem," he observed. "And since becoming a Jedi hasn't lessened your ability to frustrate and annoy…I kind of feel sorry for Bastila," he teased, eyes glittering and his lips twisting into his lopsided, flirtatious grin.

_Oh…damn…_all hope of serenity vanished. "I'm really glad you're coming with us, Carth," she blurted, blushing. "I –" She felt a jumble of tangled, unfamiliar emotions surge though him – concern, care, mistrust, even fear. _What the…?_

"Thanks," he croaked, looking away from her gaze. His hand refused to let go of her, no matter how many times he told it too. _The coincidences just keep multiplying_, he told himself as he felt her other hand drape itself over his. _She just happens to be transferred to the Endar Spire, at Bastila's request, just happens to survive, just happens to find out she's Force sensitive – at age 30, no less – we just happen to flee to a Jedi planet for refuge, she just happens to have a dream about Revan and Malak and what turns out to be a Star Map, they just happen to be ask her to become a Jedi, she just happens to share some Force "bond"with Bastila, I just happen to have a dream or a vision or something that tells me Ilithia's being lied to, Admiral Dodonna tells me to stick to my usual habits – meaning I shouldn't trust anyone – and now the Council just happens to decide to send her out on this search for Star Maps. Even leaving aside the advanced combat skills and uncanny ability to get people to spill their secrets in five minutes flat, that's a few coincidences too many._ "Give me a half an hour to run flight checks and plot a course and we'll be ready to go," he said shortly, turning away. _Something's wrong here – not her, but something_.

"Oh…okay." She stood motionless as he relinquished his grip on her arm, sliding past her and sinking into the pilot's seat with a heavy sigh. _I know I'm not supposed to, I know I shouldn't…Ah, screw it._ "I'd go mad if I had to spend a day on this ship without someone to talk to," she said quietly. "I couldn't imagine doing this without you." She let the words linger in the air for a moment, then turned and walked away, stepping lightly.

_Beautiful…_ "Damn it," he swore under his breath, slamming a fist against an armrest. Something beeped indignantly. _She won't believe me if I tell her, but I can't let her walk into this blindly…I care about her too much not to try to help her, to protect her. I have to warn her, somehow._

His old friends doubt and disbelief roused themselves to object. _Why? Jedi can handle themselves – and you've got a bigger priority. Saul._

He stopped flipping switches for a thrusters check long enough to give the only response he could think of; the one that was true.

_I want the future I saw in that dream._


	3. Histories

Author's Notes: Sorry I go so long between updates – the whole job/life thing is such an inconvenient distraction. And then KOTOR II came out…Atton is a dish, but nothing can ever displace the orange jacket from its place in my heart (not even the butt-hugging blindingly red armor they force Republic Admirals into these days – yeouch).

24601: (Love the alias, BTW) I almost always write in a modified version of 3rd person/omniscient narrative, but I am finding myself jumping back and forth between different character's thoughts more than in my other writing. I'm thinking that's because a fanfic audience, myself included, is already so familiar with the basics of the story that it's the details like the mental interplay between characters and their thoughts and words that make fanfic interesting to me, so it needs more of that than my original works. I also found that I started the story more from Carth's POV, getting into the situation, getting to know Ilithia, and connecting her thoughts and words to his by going back and forth between them in the same scene is easing me into being able to write equally from her POV as from his, which is crucial later in the game. If all my chapters were put back-to-back, novel-style, I think readers would quickly come to expect jumps between characters' thoughts from paragraph to paragraph and follow along easier, but the serial nature of fanfic gets in the way of this.

stupid-gizka: "You kick the computer. Your foot hurts." is one of my favorite lines in the whole game. I couldn't not use it, especially since it can show how our favorite girl is just as short-tempered and excitable as she used to be. I'm trying to write her as bitchy and reckless and all those other things because she needs to be believable as (1) someone who could easily fall to the Dark Side, and (2) someone who already had.

As far as whether the brother story is true…not literally, of course, being a Jedi-implanted myth, but I'm contemplating two different ways to work it in as being at least halfway based in reality, both of which I might eventually use. Though I can definitively say with the way I'm envisioning Revan's background that the only sibling(s) she'd have would be half-siblings, and she wouldn't have known about them.

Kosiah: Yes, very interesting that Carth has been having premonitions, isn't it…one could chalk it up to the fact that even a Force-blind cockroach would probably have some trippy dreams on a planet full of Jedi, especially when you're trying to cuddle up to one, but then again…;) I don't expand much on this in the in-game fic, but the post-game fic that got me started on this whole project revisits this.

alaughthatisevil: Success I intend to write more.

Finally, as always, a thousand thanks to my ever-patient and indulging husband, for putting up with me when I stay up 'til 3 AM on a work night typing happily away; and to Kate, custodian of the other half of my brain since the fall of 1995, for beta-reading and shaping my work with her incredibly insightful criticism and suggestions (the last scene with Bastila and Jolee is completely her doing).

* * *

"Hey, Carth, could you –" A cockpit full of empty chairswas all that greeted Ilithia. _Oh, great, just great, he's so desperate to avoid me he's letting the ship fly itself_, she fumed, pounding back down the passageway. _We're all going to die._

She'd barely seen him since they'd left Dantooine. Two days, and the flash of orange slipping out one end of the room as she entered from the other was as close as she'd come. _He started acting strange after the Jedi Council asked us to go on this mission…what's wrong? I know I'm…well, prickly, but I've been doing better. I thought we were doing better…what'd I do wrong?_ Storming back towards the common room, she reached out with her newly-developed Jedi senses, searching for the sound of his thoughts. _Nifty trick, this…not in the refresher, not in the port-side bunkroom, not in the swoop hold…ahh…_

He was running system checks on the _Ebon Hawk_'s upper turret gun, toggling switches and buttons as quietly as possible. As she quietly crept up the ladder, Ilithia could sense contradictory emotions swirling around in his mind, neither able to gather enough strength to motivate him to act. _Talk to me, don't talk to me…avoid me, pin me down and – oh…_ Her mind made up much more quickly, she scrambled up the last few rungs until her head popped through the floor and into the turret. "So you thought you could hide up here, did you?"

Carth yelped, jumping in surprise and landing half-in, half-out of the gunner's seat. "Damn it woman," he growled, "One of these days you're going to do that in the wrong place at the wrong time and – well, you don't want to know what's going to happen." He pulled himself back onto the seat, trying to scowl so he wouldn't burst out laughing.

"Really?" An eyebrow arched tauntingly. "Why not?"

_Because either you're going to have a blaster pointed at your head or I'm going to grab you and kiss you, and_ – He couldn't think of a response he could actually say, so he just turned back to staring at the instrument panel. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her – there were a thousand thoughts banging around in his brain, demanding to be let out – he just had no idea how to say any of them. _Too many coincidences…doesn't make any sense…somebody somewhere is lying…_ Carth's scowl became genuine as he drummed his fingers on the panel. _How can I get her to see what I see?_

Ilithia took one more step up the ladder. _Sorry, soldier, the silent treatment ends now_. "You've been very quiet lately, you know that?"

"Have I?" he replied casually, flipping a few switches so forcefully he was surprised they didn't break. He hadn't been trying to avoid her, but Bastila had been dogging Ilithia's heels since their last meeting with the Council, always pontificating about some Jedi code or principle. _Still, it's gotten her attention…maybe I can use this_. "It's a busy job, piloting a ship. What of it?"

She rolled her eyes as she hauled herself up into the turret and sat cross-legged on the grated floor. "You couldn't fool me before I had Jedi powers, Carth – don't try it now." His stare wavered, dropping from the panel to the floor. "You've been acting weird ever since we found the Star Map. Is something wrong?" she asked gently, leaning towards him, her eyes seeking to catch his.

_Everything…_ "Maybe. I, uh –" He raised his gaze to meet hers and was immediately enveloped by its warmth and affection. _And nothing…_ "I guess I just don't like being left out of the loop," he mumbled, flushing.

"Left out of the loop?" Ilithia repeated, frowning. "You know just as much about these Star Maps as I do."

"But I don't know what the Jedi Council said to you." Carth's head snapped around, his eyes boring into hers with a dark, piercing intensity. "Bastila pulled you in there for hours, and neither of you has said anything about what happened."

Ilithia's frown faded into puzzlement. "What do you mean 'what happened'?"

"Why didn't they want to keep you on Dantooine for training?" The downcast look that immediately flooded her face told him she'd wondered the very same thing – _I can work with this_. "You'd only just completed the basic training that morning. Isn't that strange?" he finished, careful to keep his tone politely befuddled and not accusatory.

"They thought it was more important that I help find the Star Maps than stay," she mumbled, knowing it didn't sound reasonable. "Master Vandar said the fact that Bastila and I dreamt about the Star Map on Dantooine and that we share this…stupid bond, meant that we were uniquely suited to undertake this mission."

Carth crossed his arms over his chest. "And why is that? You've got to need a lot more training than the little you've had."

"It may be 'basic' training but it's still pretty thorough," Ilithia snapped, feeling her anger rising at the implied suggestion of incompetence. _You'd probably be a smoldering pile of ash on Taris if it wasn't for me, and all I had then was a vibroblade and an attitude!_

"Even so," Carth retorted, "Why would they saddle a neophyte Padawan with the responsibility of tracking down these Star Maps?"

"Why not?" Ilithia shot back. "Somebody has to do it, and while I may be new at this Jedi thing I spent the last decade flying from one end of this galaxy to the other and I can look after myself pretty damn well, thank you very much!"

_Count to ten before you say anything, Onasi, count to ten…_ "I know that," he breathed, forcing himself to speak slowly so he wouldn't get too worked up. "I'm just saying it's not normal, and it makes me think there's something else going on underneath the surface, something dangerous."

Ilithia's eyes narrowed angrily. "Are you saying you think I'm a danger to this mission?" she asked in an icy voice.

"No, no," he exclaimed, starting halfway out of the gunner's chair. "That's not –"

"Then what are you saying?"

He propped his elbows up on knees and shook his head. "I just don't think we have the whole story," he sighed.

"Of course we don't," she replied, a little snippier than she'd intended to sound. "The only people who do have the whole story about these Star Maps are Revan and Malak, and considering one's dead and the other's the Dark Lord I don't think they're willing to share."

"Then why are you having the dreams?" he asked quietly. She'd told him about the dreams she and Bastila had shared, first on Taris and then on Dantooine – even if he wasn't already suspicious of Bastila, that information alone was too creepy to be ignored. "The Jedi couldn't – or wouldn't – tell you how you got bonded to Bastila, or why you're having dreams about Revan, Malak, and the Star Maps." _Come on, beautiful…_

She clenched her jaw and looked away. "So I am the problem then, huh?"

"No – that's not what I said –"

"You said you trusted me," she continued bitterly. "Were you lying? Or did I do something to change your mind?"

The temperature in the turret suddenly plunged. "No, no, Ilithia, I do trust you –"

"No – forget it," Ilithia snarled, jumping up and scrambling for the ladder. "It doesn't matter. As soon as we get to Kashyyyk you can consider yourself free to hop on the first shuttle back to Fleet."

He sprang out of the chair and hurried down the ladder after her, knowing he'd blundered into a minefield. "No, I don't…I didn't mean that you weren't wanted, or that I want to go!" he called out, looking around frantically for her as he hit the deck. "It's just –" He fell silent the moment his eyes landed on Bastila, scowling at him from the common room, her arms crossed and eyes flashing. _Damn it!_

Ilithia stepped closer to him, lowering her voice to try to keep Bastila from hearing her. "Just what?"

"Let me tell you this much," Carth whispered darkly, his eyes locked on Bastila. "I am not going to wait around until I'm lied to and betrayed again."

"I am not going to lie to you, or betray you," she hissed. "I – am – not – Saul!"

An overwhelming wave of anger and pain surged through Carth at the sound of that name. "Yea, well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" he snarled instinctively – then immediately felt regret replace anger as Ilithia staggered backwards like she'd just been punched, fury and sadness swirling through her features. _Oh, no… _"No, look, I didn't mean –" She spun around stormed down the passageway towards the starboard bunk room shared by all the women on board, leaving echoes of muttered profanities in her wake.

* * *

The day and a half remaining on the journey to Kashyyyk passed in an eerie silence. Carth no longer avoided Ilithia, but neither spoke to the other when they found themselves in the same place. Even Canderous snorted in disgust when Carth asked Mission to go tell Ilithia they'd be landing in ten minutes. Bastila, however, seemed strangely pleased.

A few minutes after landing, Ilithia marched into the common room, Bastila trailing behind. The sound of her footsteps drew the others from the other parts of the ship. Carth hung back in the passageway to the cockpit, staring sullenly at the deck. "I won't be taking everyone, obviously," Ilithia announced simply, in a quiet voice that carried easily to all ears, "Since the ship will need a 24-hour guard." Everyone nodded in silent understanding, except Carth, his eyes still cast downwards. "Zaalbar, you're a natural choice, if you're willing."

Zaalbar began growling and roaring, and while it was clear to all that he was agreeing Ilithia could sense the fear in his howls. _We'll deal with whatever that is when we come to it_, she thought, sighing. _After all, we wouldn't want this search to be boring_.

"Thank you," she said to the Wookiee, turning back to face the rest of the group. "The Star Map appears to be on the forest floor," she stated, glancing at Bastila as Zaalbar grunted, concerned – "Which is rather infested with all sorts of…things."

Carth's head jerked up, his eyes zeroing in on the back of Ilithia's head. _We just got here - how is it she already knows where the Star Map is? Another dream?_

"Trouble comes looking for you down there," Ilithia continued, "So I'd like to bring along Juhani and her combat skills."

Juhani blinked, shock rippling through her senses and over the thin layer of fur coating her skin. "Me? You would trust me enough to take me…on the first mission?"

Throwing a sharp look at Carth, who twisted his lip and turned away, Ilithia nodded. "Yes." The Cathar's fur rippled again in what Ilithia thought might be a blush as Juhani bowed her head in a graceful gesture of gratitude. "Thank you," Ilithia said, executing a similar bow. "Finally, I'll want someone to hang back and pick off a couple of kinrath with a blaster. I –"

"I'm staying," Carth barked suddenly, glowering steadily at Bastila even when he felt Ilithia's eyes burning into him. He knew Ilithia's anger at being compared to Saul had wiped out all his carefully planted questions about the Council and their motives, so he kept his suspicious glare locked on Bastila, unwilling to leave the ship and let her operate unobserved, hoping Ilithia would figure it out.

His hopes were quickly dashed. "I thought not waiting around was your new thing," Ilithia snarled. Carth flushed as she turned her back on him. "Not that it matters, because I wouldn't dream of taking Zaalbar anywhere without Mission."

The little Twi'lek beamed.

Carth scowled.

* * *

Ilithia shoved open the gates to the Great Walkway, still fuming. Over Carth's irrational paranoia; his stubbornness; the illogical reactions he had to her smallest gesture or comment; his overall…_Carthness!_

Storming off of the _Ebon Hawk_, she'd nearly bowled over the Ithorian representing Czerka Corporation who came to collect their docking fee. Then she barely showed any interest in the sob story told by the 'helper' of the dockside merchant she'd pawned a few spare blasters off on. Now it took Zaalbar's enraged roar to make her notice the small group of Czerka ahead, clustered around the body of a Wookiee. _What is my problem?_

"What do you want, spacer?" the oldest of the Czerka snapped. "I'm Patrol Captain Dehno and you're interrupting Czerka Corporation business."

Ilithia shot a distasteful glance at the body. "Since when is that business?" she asked testily, noting the patches of hair singed by blaster fire.

"This Wookiee slave got a little…rebellious," the Captain replied, shooting his own distasteful glance at one of the armed men standing over the body. "We had to put it down."

Zaalbar snarled, a wordless expression of rage followed by only slightly less furious howls. "You put it down"? We're not animals!"

A moment's study of the Czerka employees' faces revealed that they didn't understand a single thing Zaalbar had just said. "Careful now," one of them said to Ilithia, "That growl sounded pretty threatening. Keep your slave on its leash or we'll have another 'accident'," he finished, poking his blaster in the direction of the body.

_I don't have time for this_. "Relax, Zaalbar, I've got this one," she muttered to the enraged Wookiee beside her as she took a few steps closer to the Czerka patrol. "Do your superiors approve of you killing Wookiees?" she asked casually.

"Of course not," the captain snapped. "But this Wookiee got out of hand and had to be put down. We'll find another easy enough."

"No, you won't," Ilithia said flatly. The captain blinked and frowned in her direction, confused. "You're not going to be enslaving or killing another Wookiee."

The captain's confusion turned to derision, backed by the sniggers of the other two patrolmen. "Is that a joke? Who do you think you are?"

_One very pissed-off Jedi just itching for an excuse to plant my foot up – no, calm down Ilithia_, she told herself, forcing her breathing to slow. _Just because you can't give Carth the ass-whipping he deserves doesn't mean you should take it out on someone else_. She pitched her voice low and reached out slightly with one hand, directing the Force towards the captain's mind. "This posting is trouble, my friend. Get out while you can," she intoned, watching the captain's eyes turn vacant and glassy. _Thank you, Master Zhar, for insisting I learn this trick_.

"You make some sense," he said in a droid-like monotone. The other two Czerka traded suspicious glances – until a flick of Ilithia's wrist sent the Force creeping into their minds, too. "Men, I think we should petition for a transfer," the captain continued, neither turning towards his men nor altering his tone. "The corporation will survive a fight here, but us frontline guards won't." All three Czerka nodded in unison, more to themselves than to each other, and moved off slowly towards the gates to the landing pad.

Zaalbar let out a soft, mournful howl. "Thank you, Ilithia," he barked gently, advancing to stand over the body of the dead Wookiee. "What you have done may not mean much to you, but it is a great comfort to me to know no other Wookiee will suffer as this one did."

"You're welcome," Ilithia murmured. _It was just one patrol…it won't make that much of a difference_, she thought sadly as they stepped past the body and continued their way down the Walkway. _But I guess every little bit helps_.

With that interlude completed, killing the handful of kinrath they ran into just around the next turn only delayed Ilithia's return to thinking nasty thoughts about Carth. _One day's he's a confidante and a friend, looking at me like he's this close to trusting me – among other things – then I turn around and he's avoiding me at best and accusing me of being a traitor-in-waiting at worst! _"What is his problem?"

"Who, Carth?" Mission asked eagerly.

Ilithia jumped – _did I say that out loud?_ "Um…"

"Nobody blames you for being mad," the young Twi'lek continued merrily. "He's been a pain in everyone's butt lately."

"Oh…well, good," Ilithia said uncertainly.

Mission rolled her eyes. "You two…honestly, why don't you just kiss and get it over with already?"

_What!_ "K – kiss?"

"Um, yeah," Mission said in an _are-you-blind_ tone, nodding until her head tails shook. "It's pretty obvious he likes you, and you like him, so this…well, whatever it is you two are doing it's making life miserable for the rest of us."

Juhani and Zaalbar sprinted off after some mykals around the next corner. "So treating me like a leper is a sign of affection," Ilithia deadpanned.

Mission giggled. "I've spent enough time in cantinas to know that when guys are trying to say something important they usually end up saying something stupid instead." She finished off the last of the leather-winged creatures with a single, deliberate shot. "The Jedi said Revan and Malak went evil while looking for these Maps, so Carth is worried, because he likes you and doesn't want the same thing to happen to you." Far in the distance, Juhani sliced the entire stinger off a kinrath with one leaping strike. "He just chose a really bad way of trying to tell you that."

Ilithia laughed harshly, pulling out her lightsaber as more kinrath came around the corner. "You could say that again," she muttered quickly to Mission before using the Force to spring ahead, covering the distance in a few seconds and crashing her blade down on the closest creature's head so hard it was momentarily stunned – making it easy pickings for the advancing Twi'lek. "What makes you think he likes me, anyhow?" she asked Mission once she'd pulled up alongside.

"Let's see," she began, holstering her blaster to count off the reasons on her fingers. "There's the dreamy look he gets on his face when you talk to him – er, when you were talking to him – there's the way his eyes constantly watch you whenever you two are in the same room, and the way your eyes watch him; why else would Bastila have spent the entire trip preaching about the dangers of 'emotional attachments' –" Mission's impression of Bastila's prudish voice was so wickedly accurate Ilithia nearly choked herself swallowing the peals of laughter which would only summon more kinrath. "And the morning of the swoop race Gadon said something about –"

"Okay, okay – point conceded," Ilithia cut in, waving her hands frantically. _I should've guessed that room was bugged_. "He likes me. But –" A sudden chill enveloped her mind. "Ah, hell…stay back," she ordered Mission, reigniting her lightsaber and breaking into a run.

Three dark Jedi faced Juhani and Zaalbar, blocking the path down the Walkway. Their red blades shimmered in the dim light, but they were holding their position, as if waiting for the other Jedi to join them before striking. "Lord Malak was most displeased when he learned you had escaped Taris," one growled.

_Me?_ Ilithia struck a defensive pose. _Bastila I'd understand…he must me 'you' in the plural sense_. "Well, you're about to be most displeased to have found us here, so that's two-for-two," she hissed, shifting her weight and lunging suddenly at the nearest Sith.

It was a quick fight – they were young, and their range of dark powers was broad but their strength shallow, so they could hold the two Jedi at bay but had no ability remaining to defend against Mission and Zaalbar's aim. Ilithia collected their sabers, with some powerful-looking crystals inside, then joined the others heading for the village gates in the distance. _Barely old enough to apply for the Fleet Academy…just like the dead on the Endar Spire._

* * *

"How long have they been gone?"

Bastila sighed. Carth had asked the same question approximately every twenty minutes since Ilithia and the others left. _The man needs a hobby_. "Just under four hours," she replied, letting her exasperation be heard. "They have to reach the forest floor – and who knows how far away the Star Map is? This could take days," she finished.

"Days," he repeated numbly. That wasn't new news – Ilithia had made the very same pronouncement just as she headed down the ramp and off the ship.

_I shouldn't have said those things_, he thought, sighing and slouching off to brood in the cockpit, again. _The Jedi are the big new thing in her life; she doesn't have any reason to mistrust them. So she chalks it up to my paranoia and takes off, angry at me instead of them_.

Up until the very last, he didn't think she wouldn't take him with her. Even when he'd said he stay he thought she'd drag him along anyway, out of spite if for no other reason. They'd made a great team on Taris, and on Dantooine… _"I couldn't imagine doing this without you"_…

_I blew that all to hell when I compared her to Saul_, he thought, collapsing into the cold comfort of the pilot's seat. _I basically called her a liar – so she's really mad at me now, not just mildly peeved like on Taris. If I want her to trust me again – even just talk to me again – I'm going to have to tell her everything. About Telos, about the dream…_

_You're going to have to a-pol-o-gize_, his alter ego chimed. _And you know how much you hate doing that_.

"She's worth it," he whispered, the strength of his feeling demanding to be spoken aloud. _I want to give this a try…I want a chance_.

The little voice laughed. _She's got bigger things to worry about than the troubles of one little person like you. Do you really think a Jedi and a common soldier could_ –

A sharp metal clang killed his thoughts – _the ramp – she's back!_ He scrambled up and sprinted into the passageway. _Only four hours – this can't be good_.

"Bastila!" he heard her scream. "Get your ass to the medbay!"

_This isn't good_. Rounding the turn into the common room, Carth saw the cause of Ilithia's panic – Mission, limp, pale, and bloody, lay in her arms as she rushed by. A few steps behind came Juhani, also pale and bloody but moving under her own power, albeit with a pronounced limp. The ramp began to crank shut – _where's Zaalbar?_

"BASTILA!" Ilithia roared a second time, pivoting to her left to head for the medbay. The young Jedi finally appeared, skidding to an unglamorous stop at the sight of the three arrivals. "If you've got any magic in those fingers you'd better make it work now," Ilithia panted urgently, laying Mission gently down on the nearest bed.

"I'll do my best," Bastila whispered, growing paler with each new injury that caught her eye.

Carth forced his fists to unclench as Bastila stepped up to the bed, closing her eyes to let the Force guide her hands. "What happened?" he asked tersely.

Ilithia didn't even have the energy to glare at him. _Stupid Ilithia, stupid STUPID Ilithia!_ "There's no time to stand around explaining," she said, managing at least to sound angry. "Find Canderous."

"I'm already here," the Mandalorian's voice growled behind her, stepping out of the shadows back towards the hyperdrive. "You would've raised the dead with the racket you made."

"That was the idea – and since when have you used a stealth field generator?" she asked, frowning.

Canderous grinned – though a scar over one end of his lip marked a place where the muscles didn't turn upwards properly, turning the grin into a sinister grimace. "I don't."

_Either Mandalorian warriors take ballet lessons or I really need to work on my awareness_. "Right, anyhow…" She strode over to a nearby cabinet, yanked it open and started shoving medpacs into her pack. "You and Carth go grab your gear. I'll meet you outside."

"Me?" Carth blurted, as Canderous grunted and moved off.

"Yes, you," Ilithia snarled, her glare reborn. "Perfect opportunity for your paranoia to spread its wings; my snoring probably contains coded messages for the Sith."

The set of his jaw tightened. _I am not that unreasonable!_ "You don't snore," he grumbled.

_All the trouble we had on Taris, and he took the time to notice and remember a little thing like that_. "Whatever…just get your gear," she snapped, feeling like if she didn't keep moving she was going to put her fist through a wall. _I can't believe I was that stupid…whether or not he trusted me before he sure as hell won't ever again_. Carth thought about saying something else, but moved off in silence. "And don't you try to argue with me," she snapped at an indignant-looking Bastila.

"Why not?" the young Jedi retorted, though her healing continued.

Ilithia rolled her eyes, grabbing another armful of medpacs. "Attacking the kinrath at close range wasn't very productive, so I want the blaster boys to keep them at bay until they're either dead or easy pickings. Besides," she continued, running a finger along a gash from a Wookiee blade on Mission's arm, healing it as she went – _it's my fault…I'm so sorry_ – "You've got much more important things to do."

* * *

The last kinrath collapsed onto the walkway. "Run this by me one more time," Canderous said, lowering his blaster and turning back towards Ilithia.

"Okay, incredibly long story even shorter," she muttered, holstering her pair of still-cold lightsabers. She'd taken one of the short lightsabers scavenged from the dark Jedi and upgraded it to give her some extra power. They had been unneeded out on the Walkway, as what Canderous didn't obliterate with his rapid-fire setting Carth finished off with a few well-placed power blasts from his also newly-upgraded pair of blasters.

Not that proving his worth had wiped the scowl off his face. "I'd like to hear how a Jedi can justify accepting an assassination mission, no matter what the reward."

"I'm getting to that," she snapped, pushing past them to continue the long walk back to the basket they'd take to the forest floor. "Zaalbar left Kashyyyk because he attacked his older brother, Chuundar, after learning Chuundar was in league with Czerka slavers. Said brother now runs their village, which, of course, is the one we've parked next to."

"So where is Zaalbar?" Carth demanded.

A flash of deep anger flickered in Ilithia's eyes. "In Chuundar's jail. From which he won't be released until I – we – have 'disposed' of a supposedly crazy Wookiee making trouble for Chuundar – or, more likely, his Czerka allies – down in the Shadowlands."

"You say what you have to say to get what you need," Canderous said, nodding.

Only Carth noticed the way Ilithia rolled her shoulders before responding, suddenly uncomfortable in her own skin. "I said I'd 'take care' of the Wookiee – that is a vague enough statement to let me judge what should be done for myself." _I couldn't refuse, but I've no intention of killing someone who might be innocent – how much more can I screw up today?_

"So why did you agree?" Carth asked angrily. "Why lie?"

Ilithia immediately colored, wheeling around. "One –" she spat, thrusting a finger in Carth's face, "I did not lie – I was vague. Two –" another finger joined the first – "It's getting us into the Shadowlands. Three – if Chuundar dislikes him, this Wookiee's probably a good guy. And four – it'll save Zaalbar's life." Carth flushed, chastised but still wary. "Besides," she muttered, turning away, "I had my fingers crossed behind my back."

Carth couldn't hold the laugh back, despite the hurt look she immediately sent his way. "So you reserve the right to help this Wookiee instead of killing him?"

"Absolutely," she said, heading into the last turn before the basket would come into view. "Chuundar's deal with Czerka is the root of all the problems here – Zaalbar's banishment and imprisonment, their father's exile and madness, even Rorworr's disappearance. If anyone deserves facing the business end of your blasters, it's him."

Canderous frowned. "Ror- who?"

"And what's this about Zaalbar's father?" Carth added.

"Later," Ilithia sighed, catching sight of the winch below. "Gorwooken is one of Chuundar's cronies – we shouldn't talk about anything more interesting than the medicinal properties of kinrath venom around him."

"Same goes for his friend, I suppose," Carth grumbled, squinting ahead.

Ilithia followed his gaze and let out a disgusted groan. "That's Chuundar."

Canderous hoisted his blaster back onto his shoulder. "Maybe we should end this charade right now."

"No," Ilithia said quickly, pushing the muzzle down. "We do that and whoever Chuundar's right-hand man is will put Zaalbar's head on a pike." Canderous frowned, almost pouting – _not that I'd ever say that to his face_ – but let his weapon drop off to the side. "Let's just get down there, find the Wookiee, find the Star Map, and then we kick whoever's ass turns out to deserve kicking, okay?" She looked over at Carth, hoping to get at least a nod, but the stony glare was back in place.

A Wookiee's roar ended their conversation – Chuundar had spotted them. "Jedi," he called out, "Just getting started now? And with new companions?"

"The others were a little bit tired after the reception we received down below," she said tersely, eyes narrowing. "They needed a nap."

"Reception?" Carth whispered.

Ilithia strode up to the Wookiee leader, lazily draping one hand over the lightsaber hanging from the belt below. Drawing herself up into a confident pose, she tilted her head up to cast an insolent glare upon Chuundar. "I don't suppose I need to ask how Calo Nord managed to be camped out right where the basket lands, with two armed Wookiees in tow?"

"Calo?" Canderous barked, fingers curling around the trigger of his blaster.

"Don't get excited," she told him, waving a hand dismissively. "He's very, very dead."

"We thought he died on Taris," Carth cautioned.

She gave both men a _top-this_ grin. "I sliced his head off with my lightsaber. D-E-A-D – dead. Which must disappoint you," she called out loudly, inclining her head towards Chuundar.

The Wookiee shrugged. "I was paid to let him find you," he barked mildly, untroubled to be admitting his complicity. "What happened after that was not my concern."

Ilithia snorted disbelievingly. "Whatever. Just understand that if any one of us gets so much as a hangnail from any other unexpected encounters you're going to have a very, very close encounter with me." Motioning Carth and Canderous to follow, she stepped around Chuundar and into the basket.

Chuundar howled, half-laughing, half-growling. "Was that a threat? From a Jedi?" Ilithia leaned on one of the railings as her companions stepped in. "Don't forget I still have Zaalbar. If you wish me anything but peace…" He spread his paws apart, shrugging suggestively.

"I wish you peace, Chuundar," Ilithia said quietly, a cold anger radiating from her eyes. The basket creaked and began to move. "But don't forget how very peaceful the grave can be."

* * *

The old man let out another loud snort as his arm dropped with a dull thump from the low bed onto the floor. Carth's eyes barely twitched – that arm had been teetering on the edge of the mattress since the old man last rolled over about fifteen minutes ago. Which was pretty much the amount of time that passed between each different movement or noise the man made as he slept – _if he's actually sleeping_, Carth thought, scowling in the dim light of the loft. _I can't get a single second of sleep with him making all that racket, so how can he?_

A shaft of light through the rough and unevenly matched floorboards illuminated the symbol of the reason Jolee Bindo was so blissfully undisturbed by his own commotion – a lightsaber, lying on top of a pile of robes. Ilithia had used some Jedi tricks both to get through her training on barely two hours of sleep a night and to catch up on her sleep during the trip to Kashyyyk, despite Zaalbar's roaring, Bastila's preaching, and T3's incessant, migraine-inducing beeping. And regardless of Jolee's reluctance to even utter that term, a Jedi he was.

He knew about the Star Map – _he's been down here too long not to_, Carth reasoned. Nearly two decades surviving on his own in the Shadowlands, if Jolee's claims could be believed – further proof of his Jedi background. He'd agreed to help them pass an energy field blocking the way to a lower portion of the Shadowlands, where he said the Map lay, but by the time they had all finished exploring the areas around his small house it was getting late, and even Canderous didn't protest when Ilithia decided to call it a night.

Dinner had been a spartan affair, simple and bland-looking earthenware bowls containing simple, bland-tasting food. Every question Ilithia asked Jolee resulted in the telling of a long, seemingly pointless parable, and Carth wasn't in the mood to do anything but brood silently, so she'd resorted to asking Canderous to tell her stories from the Mandalorian wars to keep them from falling asleep in their food. Which, Carth had to admit, turned out to be a surprisingly good choice – Canderous was a natural storyteller, with a feel for suspense and timing as he relayed tales of his battles from his training up to the final confrontation with Revan and the Republic forces at Malachor V. _He makes it sound so thrilling, almost magical_, Carth thought grumpily, rolling over yet again. _All I remember about that battle were the endless hours of dodging Basilisk droids and then the sheer terror, the horror, as the planet broke apart, crushing dozens of both Republic and Mandalorian warships that couldn't maneuver quickly enough to get away_. Ilithia, on the other hand, was fascinated, even enthralled, and her exclamation of "I want a Basilisk war droid!" after one particularly death-defying tale drew a disapproving grunt from Jolee.

Now Carth could hear her voice echoing through Jolee's small house from downstairs, where she and Canderous were sitting the first watch. Metallic clangs and clacks told him they were disassembling and cleaning their weapons on the table while they talked, trading tales of strange worlds and species they'd both encountered in their travels on the Rim. Snippets of their conversation drifted up through the floorboards, random words every few minutes. "An asteroid?" Ilithia asked…"The Sith came to us with an offer…" Canderous growled…"Six?" Ilithia spluttered in a high-pitched chirp…

_I miss her_. He sighed into the darkness, closing his eyes to focus on the sound of her voice. _She's right there, and yet…I miss her_.

"The Jedi say emotional entanglements can be dangerous." Ilithia's voice said, sounding far more distant than being just a room away.

_No_, Carth thought, wrenching himself up from the floor. "No," he hissed quietly. _You said you wouldn't be like Bastila_. He groped around for his flight jacket, stuffing one arm into the first sleeve-like opening it found. _You're still going to be you – still going to be the Ilithia I knew on Taris – the Ilithia I_…he shook his head as he shoved his other arm into his jacket and clambered towards the ladder to the ground floor. His feelings were probably still too scrambled to be dealt with, but he had to start somewhere.

She'd heard him coming, of course. Her eyes were already fixed on the ladder as he tried to clamber down from the loft, his face turning red with the realization that he'd put his jacket on inside-out. Canderous glanced up from the dozens of blaster components scattered on the table and gave Carth a derisive once-over. "Your shift doesn't start for another hour," he growled, dropping his eyes back onto his deconstructed weapon.

"I know that," Carth snapped, directing his attention to Ilithia. He'd expected her to be flush with anger and fixing him with an icy glare, but instead she was pale, almost fearful, staring unblinkingly at the dirt floor. "Can – can we talk?"

Ilithia seemed to sink into herself. "What do we have to talk about?" _He must be so disappointed in me._

Carth frowned, confused by her reactions. _She must not feel comfortable talking about any of this with Canderous here_. "Let's go outside," he suggested gently. "I have it on very good authority that there aren't any kinrath left in this part of the Shadowlands."

"Fine," she sighed wearily, scooping her lightsabers off the table and slouching towards the door. _A private execution. How thoughtful_.

He followed her out into the cool nighttime air, closing the door behind him with a little more force than necessary. "I called up to the ship earlier – Mission's going to be fine."

"Oh," came a small voice from the motionless woman a few feet away. "Good." _Nice to know my stupidity is just highly dangerous to others instead of fatal_.

Carth bypassed the twisted and inside-out jacket to stuff his hands in his pants pockets. _You dug this hole, Onasi – you get yourself out of it_. "Ilithia?" She didn't move. "What you said to Chuundar," he continued hesitantly, "Did you mean it?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," she replied curtly. "A feeling you're familiar with, I'm sure."

He sighed in frustration. _She's not going to give me a break_. "Well, why did you say it?"

_You've promised to kill Saul – you tell me_. "Because Chuundar's a lying, manipulative bastard who's destroyed his family and sold his people's future for his own gain. Threatening Zaalbar's life is just a bonus reason to want him dead." She shook her head. _Stupid – impulsive – reckless!_ "That doesn't sound very Jedi of me, does it?"

"Not really," he replied gently. _You have to give her a break first, idiot_. "But it does sound like you." He stretched out a hand to touch her shoulder. "Ilithia, I'm –" The moment she felt his fingers brush against her fiber armor she jerked away, grunting a warning. "Look – we didn't end our last discussion very well, and I'm not very good at this – but I'm going to try." He stepped around to stand in front of her. "I probably owe you more than one apology, so please consider this an all-purpose 'I'm sorry' for all the stupid things I've said."

_Huh?_ "W-what?" Ilithia jerked her head up to gape at Carth. _Why…why would he still care?_

Carth locked his eyes on hers, willing her to believe him. "What I said on the ship – I didn't mean it – I don't believe that. I just got carried away." Ilithia blinked, wearing a disbelieving, blank look. "I did mean what I said on Dantooine – I don't trust the Jedi," he continued fervently. "In fact, I trust them even less now than I did then. There is something going on, something that's wrong – but I know it's not you. I trust you." He reached up, intent on caressing her face and pulling her close.

She anticipated him, backing away suddenly. "You shouldn't," she said harshly, her voice choking on each syllable. "You shouldn't."

Carth frowned, suddenly and deeply confused. "Ilithia…why? What's wrong?"

"I broke my promise," she wailed, finally giving voice to the depth of her frustration and anger at her failure. "I was so mad at you I could barely see straight, and I rushed off with Mission when I should've known she was too young, should've known she would get hurt…I almost got her killed," she said, slumping onto a nearby log.

"Ilithia…" He sat down next to her, slipping his arms around her waist.

Her voice collapsed to an agonized whisper, punctuated by the need to fight away tears. "I've no right to ask you for anything when I can't – even – keep – the most – basic –"

"Hey, hey," Carth said softly, reaching one hand up to brush away the few drops that escaped from her eyes. "It means that much to you? Keeping a promise?"

Ilithia heaved a gulping sob, nodding. "Breaking a promise is just another way of lying," she said shakily. "I don't know why those things matter to me so much, but they do." She tried to concentrate, paging through her memories, knowing she should know, should remember, but the surrounding warmth of his arms was too distracting. "Let me go…I've let you down. I don't deserve your trust." _Or anything else_.

"But I do trust you, Ilithia, with my life," Carth whispered, tightening his embrace when she shook her head feebly in protest. "You earned that on Taris and Dantooine – and even today you still chased off not one but two Czerka patrols without a single shot being fired."

"Like that makes up for it," Ilithia snorted.

"Look – you couldn't have known Calo Nord was waiting for you," Carth countered. "You had no reason to think it was dangerous to bring Mission along. And even if you did," he added, seeing her gearing up to argue the point, "I'm the one who made you mad in the first place. If you did do something stupid, it's because I said something stupid."

She dropped her head, trying to turn away from him. "Why are you trying to forgive me?"

"Because I trust you," he whispered fervently, cupping her chin in his hand to keep her in his gaze. "I don't give my trust easily…I haven't given it to anyone for a long time. But you earned it, and it's going to take a hell of a lot more than an unfortunate run-in with a bounty hunter for you to lose it."

Ilithia gave up trying to avoid him, fixing him with a bitterly piercing glare. "No, I'd have to run off and join the Sith to do that, wouldn't I?"

"I am so sorry about that," he said immediately, his tone conciliatory. "I…I don't react well when I hear Saul's name. I snapped, and I said something I didn't mean."

"No, Carth…you're not the only one with something to apologize for," she sighed. "I – when you started giving me the silent treatment I…I overreacted, like some stupid, inexperienced…teenager!" She stood suddenly, pacing a few feet away, then back, then away again, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to fight off the rush of cool nighttime air that replaced Carth's warm embrace. "Everyone who was supposed to stick around in my life abandoned me – my parents, all my foster parents, even my brother. I hadn't wanted to leave myself open to being hurt like that again, so I got frustrated and defensive," she said, twisting her hands together as she stopped and leaned back against the wall of Jolee's house.

Carth grinned up at her. "You do get frustrated pretty easily, but I like to think it's one of your more endearing qualities…broken feet and all," he added, enjoying the embarrassed blush that produced. "You're cute when you're mad."

"Even at myself?" Ilithia asked with a harsh laugh.

"Even at me."

"Just…please be patient with me," she said, her eyes downcast. "I really haven't ever done this before." He frowned, surprised. "I know I said on Taris that I'd never…well…I – I've never even had a real date." She watched Carth for his reaction, letting out a rueful chuckle at his stunned silence. "I told you I had issues with emotional intimacy," she muttered glumly. "About time they showed up."

He got up off the fallen log and walked towards her. "You're not the only one who's been living in their past," he said gently, taking up a spot next to her against the wall.

"I know – I'm sorry about all this," she said. "I know how much hunting Saul means to you, and now you've been stuck chasing down these Star Maps with us rather than being out there with the Fleet." A strange, conflicted expression passed over Carth's features for a moment. "Is that why you were acting like you were?" she asked nervously.

"No," he replied firmly, shaking his head. "No, I was offered a chance to get out of this, to command another battlecruiser. I turned it down."

Ilithia didn't have to debate the wisdom of wanting to know more. "Why?"

"Until Taris," he started with a sad sigh, "I'd never gotten any closer to Saul than a dozen parsecs. Word would come over the intelligence nets that Saul and the _Leviathan_ were off in a sector on one side of the galaxy, but then I'd get orders from the Fleet sending my ship to the other side." Ilithia frowned tightly, crossing her arms over her chest to try to keep her hands warm. "Now, if this mission really is as important as the Jedi say it is," Carth continued, "Chances are Malak will send his best forces after us. That includes Saul."

The chill in Ilithia's hands and feet crept into her heart. "So you're just here for your chance at vengeance, then," she said tersely, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Not just for that, no," Carth said softly, shrugging out of his jacket and turning it right-side out. "I've spent almost every moment of the last four years hunting for vengeance, and it's brought me nothing but misery, loneliness and pain. I thought I was alright with that; I didn't think there was a way to feel anything other than that." He draped the jacket over her shoulders, wrapping one arm around her as he went. "And then I met you." Ilithia inhaled sharply as he pulled her close to him. "Even though you'd isolated yourself from the universe, even though you'd had so much pain in your life, you still had humor, and generosity, and kindness…you had life. Standing next to you I felt like a dried-up, bitter, old man…and I realized I didn't want to be that way anymore. Now I am still just as determined to spit on Saul's lifeless corpse today as I was yesterday, and the day before; but that's not going to help me reclaim any part of the life I had before…of the man I was before." His cheek brushed up against her hair, and the feel of each pulse of breath against her skin as he spoke sent sparks of electricity down her spine. "That's why I've been the way I have been lately. I trust you with my life, but now I'm trying to decide if I can trust you with more."

_'I hope you find the happiness I once knew myself'…_ "What you said to Shen and Rahasia after we brought them back to the Enclave –"

Carth sighed. The mystery of the kidnapped kid on Dantooine had turned out to involve two feuding fathers and a secret romance between their children. Ilithia hadn't been able to talk the fathers into accepting the couple, so they'd been given sanctuary with the Jedi. "You heard that?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ilithia asked, with a hint of a grin.

"I haven't wanted to talk about any of the things we've talked about," he muttered.

Her grin blossomed into a gentle smirk. "But you've done it anyway."

"You wouldn't shut up until I did," he replied fondly. _I can't tell those eyes of yours 'no'_. "Persistence thy name is Ilithia."

"Pleased to meet you." They shared a momentary laugh as she slipped further into his embrace. "Look, Carth, it's your right to decide what you want to tell me, and when. I'm only going to ask for one thing." He nodded, encouraging her to go on. "No more of this...whatever it is we've been doing. No more up and down, no more two steps forward, one step back, no more 'he trusts me, he trusts me not'. You don't have to tell me the whole truth now, but you'll have to eventually; because I've told you everything I know about this mission…and about me." She turned towards him, carefully placing one hand on his chest, now covered only by the soft, worn brown fabric of his bodysuit, then resting her head lightly on his shoulder. "And because I can't trust you as much as I'd like to without the truth."

She was so close. He'd been dreaming nearly every night since Taris of having another chance to taste her – not counting that almost-illicit daydream outside the Council chamber – and here she was, curled up against him, looking like she wanted nothing else than to feel his lips on hers, his hands…_No_, he thought with a sigh. "I understand." _Not before she knows everything_. "It's been a while since I had to think about this sort of thing," he added.

Amusement and suspicion crept into Ilithia's face. "What sort of thing?"

_The things I want to do to you when you look at me like that_. "I – I just hate not knowing what's really going on," he spluttered, hoping she hadn't noticed his eyes studying her lips. "But I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You've been a royal pain in my backside, you know," she purred. She'd noticed. _Bastila's not here…_

"Well, I guess I should be at least a little pleased that I haven't lost my touch," Carth grinned in reply.

Ilithia gave a little laugh. "We've both been rather touchy these last few days."

"So is my apology accepted?" he asked, pulling her even closer against him.

"Is mine?" Ilithia queried softly.

Carth nodded, brushing his lips against her temple. "You have to ask?" She moaned softly, her hands gently grasping at his bodysuit, turning her head until her lips grazed the stubble on his jaw. "Beautiful…" he breathed, closing his eyes. _If you kiss me again I won't –_

"So, the Mandalorian wants to know if he's sleeping on the bed or the floor," Jolee's voice called out from behind them, where the old man stood in the doorway to his small house, his dark skin seeming even darker silhouetted against the dim firelight.

Ilithia let out a deep, disappointed sigh, but didn't pull away. _First prim and proper gets on my case about Carth, now old and crotchety takes his turn_. "Tell him he can have the bed," she called out. "I've slept in a lot rougher places than your floor." _Not that I think I'll be getting any sleep_.

"Well, come on in then," Jolee grumped. "No sense in staying out here and catching your death of cold."

"I'm fine right here," Ilithia replied flatly. "I'll be in soon enough." The older Jedi let out another skeptical grunt, but turned and headed back indoors without another word. "Hm," she grunted softly as the door swung closed, "I expected him to argue with me."

Carth hadn't even realized his muscles had tensed up until they started screaming to be relaxed. "We could invite him back to the ship and hope he'll rub off on Bastila," he muttered jokingly – then froze when he saw the pensive look on Ilithia's face. "You're not seriously thinking that's a good idea, are you?"

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Another Jedi?" Carth groaned.

"Relax," she teased. "He may like it here." Carth looked more likely to buy real estate on Dagobah before he bought that idea. "I should go in," she sighed.

He nodded reluctantly. "Keep the jacket." Ilithia frowned. "You always seem to be cold," he explained simply. "Stay warm tonight."

_The jacket will help, but its' owner would be better_. "I'll try." She pressed a light kiss on his chin, lingering a moment as he caressed her face gently, then slowly pulled herself away and headed back inside.

* * *

"Here, take it," Ilithia said, pulling the bloody, rusted blade out of her pack and laying it lightly across the elderly Wookiee's outstretched paws. "I'm sure it is the one."

Freyyr blinked, weighing the blade as if it was lighter than he'd expected. "It…it is!" he barked reverently, his dark eyes gleaming suddenly in the dim forest light. "It may not look like much…" he trailed off, unable to continue.

"Few things of true value ever do," Ilithia said softly, smiling.

The Wookiee grasped the blade at its lower, wider end, flourishing it like the great war sword it had been. "I didn't think I was worthy to search for it, but I realize now that that was selfish despair," he howled, his confidence and anger returning. "I should have challenged Chuundar long ago."

Ilithia nodded, starting to grin. "When and where?"

"I will climb to the surface as quickly as possible and gather support," Freyyr said, sheathing the blade in his utility belt. "I was not the only one beginning to doubt Chuundar when I was banished – surely I am not alone now." His claws slid silently from their sheaths, and with a single lunge he buried them into the trunk of the nearest wroshyr tree. "I will present the blade of Bacca to Chuundar and the other village elders in two hours' time," Freyyr grunted, hoisting himself up. "My people will no longer be slaves."

"We'll be there when you arrive," Ilithia said, backing up a step as the Wookiee began to climb. "Good luck." Freyyr howled softly, half hopeful, half rueful, then melted into the darkness. "We've probably got an hour and a half, then," she muttered, turning and starting to stride quickly back towards the Czerka gate. "Get ready to give those old muscles a workout, Jolee – we've got to move fast."

The Jedi arched an eyebrow mockingly. "Who needs muscles when you've got the Force?" he drawled, giving Ilithia an amused grin before taking off at an inhuman speed, rounding the corner and passing out of sight in just a few seconds.

Carth blinked twice to make sure his eyes were working right. "Can you do that?"

"Actually, no, not yet," Ilithia sighed, clipping her lightsabers to her belt. "But I'm going to get him to teach me as soon as we've got a free hour." Carth and Canderous followed her as she trudged back onto the main path, glancing around each corner for stray kinrath as they went.

Jolee was waiting for them at the Czerka gate. "So why are you in such a hurry, young lady? It's not far to the village – shouldn't take us more than twenty minutes."

"It's nearly forty minutes to the spaceport," she replied tersely, without even a pause in her stride.

"The spaceport?" Jolee fell into step beside her, frowning. "You're not leaving – not when Freyyr's counting on us for –"

"Relax, Jolee," Ilithia interjected. "We're not leaving." The older Jedi grunted, but his eyes softened from a narrow, calculating glare to a calmer, curious gaze. "There's this mechanic up at the spaceport who's stuck working off a debt to a trader – he tried to tell me what his problem was after I arrived, but I was…preoccupied," she continued, sneaking a sheepish glance at Carth. "I blew right past him. But I found a droid near your house that I think belonged to him, and it had a recording that I think he'll want to see."

Jolee nodded thoughtfully. "Understandable, but why can't this wait until we've dealt with Chuundar?" he asked.

The abandoned Czerka site with the silent sonic emitters came into view. "Do you really think the Wookiees will be content to overthrow Chuundar but leave the Czerka slavers and poachers in place?" she asked, feeling a little nervous under Jolee's unrelenting gaze.

"They'll attack the spaceport and kill every Czerka they find," Canderous rumbled, grinning. "Excellent."

_And here I thought killing that terantatek would satisfy him, at least for a little while_. "That mechanic shouldn't be here, and certainly doesn't deserve to die for being too honest – so we need to get him out from under his debt and get him off this planet before the Wookiees attack," Ilithia said, stepping up her pace as they passed the fallen tree that marked the gateway to the clearing where the lift to the Walkway waited. "They should leave our ship alone, so if push comes to shove –"

A ringing, enraged howl froze all four of them in their tracks. Gorwooken waited by the basket, as usual, but now he bore a long, angular sword, and was flanked by two other Wookiees who looked just as menacing and thuggish as the two who'd accompanied Calo Nord. "You! Ilithia! Our spies say that the mad-claw you were sent to kill is on his way to Rwookrrorro right now!"

"Whoops," she chirped, pasting a false grin on her face.

"You should have followed the will of Chuundar!" Gorwooken snarled, raising his blade and charging towards her. "Now you will face his wrath!"

Ilithia barely had time to ignite her lightsabers before his sword came swinging down at her, forcing her to fling herself on the ground and roll away. "Get the others!" she yelled in the general direction of Carth and Canderous, who immediately opened fire on the henchmen, while a green lightsaber sprang to life and quickly began advancing to help her.

Compared to the terantatek and Calo Nord, this fight was surprisingly quick. Jolee used an advanced form of stasis Ilithia hadn't learned yet to freeze Gorwooken, giving them a chance to take care of him while Carth and Canderous kept the other two Wookiees at bay. When Gorwooken finally dropped to the ground, dead, the henchmen charged, only to be cut down in a single movement by each of the two Jedi.

Jolee deactivated his lightsaber with a deep sigh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

"Well, it has," Ilithia said, frowning at the basket. Jolee looked up from his rueful contemplation of Gorwooken's corpse to give Ilithia a sharp, worried look. "Standing around moaning about it won't get that mechanic off Kashyyyk or Zaalbar out of prison any faster," she continued, hopping over the rail and into the basket. "Let's get moving."

"You think you can operate this thing?" Carth asked warily, eyeing a still-smoking hole one of his blasters had put in the nearest corner post.

She began untying the thick, multi-corded main line from the post in the center of the basket. "I think so," she said slowly. "Here, Canderous," she called out, thrusting the main line in his general direction. "You grab this…I'll move this…" The basket jerked violently as it moved a few inches off the ground and began swaying back and forth. Carth and Jolee scrambled to jump over the railing and into the basket while Canderous secured the main line back onto the center post. After one more sudden lurch, the basket stabilized, and began its slow, steady ascent.

"Thanks for the warning," Carth grumbled, grabbing onto the closest railing for balance as he stood.

Not seeing any mykals lurking in the nearby branches as they rose higher, Ilithia stepped slowly over to join Carth. "I didn't know my plan was going to be that successful, that quickly."

"Yeah, well, at least it worked better than the plan you had this morning," he replied teasingly. "The one where we were supposed to meet the Wookiee and get the Star Map before lunch?"

Ilithia shot Carth a half-hearted dirty look – it was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon. "Yeah, well, a terantatek, a homicidal computer, and a bunch of Mandalorians would slow anybody down," she retorted. When a few seconds ticked by without the sarcastically mocking response she expected, she turned towards Carth, who now wore a tight, pensive expression. "Credit for your thoughts, handsome?" she murmured, moving closer.

_For you, they're free_. "I was just thinking about that computer…that test, back at the Star Map," he mumbled.

Ilithia's gaze was drawn to the shadows moving among the distant trees. "Oh…that."

"That question about letting a city be attacked now to gain a strategic advantage later," he began, his features darkening with fear and memory. "What would you have done?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, rubbing her palms along the railing. "That's mostly why I refused to answer and didn't mind when the computer decided to attack me – those questions were just…well, an honest answer would've required a lot more thought than I had time for down there," she finished.

Carth's chest tightened. "And have you given it more thought?"

She let out a long sigh, nodding. "I would like to think I would defend the city," she said uncertainly. "The Jedi teach that all life is sacred; no matter how great the hypothetical advantage, I'd hope I wouldn't want to win that way."

"You hope?"

Her eyes closed as a guilty look crossed her face. "If I honestly believed there was no other way to win…what choice would I have?" She shook her head, her features taking on the pinched expression of distaste. "You're the captain, the war hero – five million dead on one planet or five billion dead throughout the galaxy –" _Screw the hypothetical – let's go for it_ – "If defending the planet meant you would never get your revenge on Saul, but letting it be destroyed guaranteed that you would watch him die that day – what would you do?"

"I'd –" Carth stopped, his jaw hanging open, his instinct to protect and defend warring with the rush of blind rage the mention of Saul's name never failed to provoke. _I've hunted him, hated him for so long…but is that the way I'd want to do it?_ A mykal fluttered by, reminding him to close his mouth while his mind searched for an answer. _Defend the planet and I never free of him…but what sort of man would I become if I let a planet die just to kill him?_ "I – I don't know," he finally stammered. "I guess I'd probably just kick the comput – ow!"

Ilithia's elbow withdrew from Carth's ribs. "Don't change the subject," she said grumpily.

"You're never going to live that down, you know," Carth muttered dejectedly.

"I'll manage." She rubbed her palms together nervously. "Could you manage if you never got your revenge on Saul?"

Carth let out a soft laugh, admiring her tenacity for what was not the first and wouldn't be the last time. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

Ilithia replied with a soft smile. "That's because you make me want to hear the answers."

"Even these answers?" he asked quietly, trying to warn her off with his eyes.

If she saw the warning, she had no intention of heeding it. "You remember what I said last night."

_There is no trust without truth_. "I…I suppose I don't have to be the one who kills him. Just as long as he's dead."

"But he has to die?"

He looked away before she could catch his gaze, his expression closed. "Yes." Ilithia stayed silent, waiting for him to make the next move. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

"I would," Ilithia said gently, shifting even closer to him.

"It's just that…I don't talk about it very much," he mumbled, fighting off the urge to curl his arm around her.

"Actually," she murmured, lightly placing a hand on his arm, "I figured you've probably never talked about it at all."

Her touch melted all thoughts of resistance. "You said you threatened Chuundar because he'd lied, he'd destroyed his family, and he'd sold out his people," Carth began slowly. Ilithia gave him a small, encouraging nod. "Saul lied," he continued, taking a deep, ragged breath. "Saul sold out his people, both the Republic and the soldiers who trusted him…and he destroyed my family." Ilithia's expression immediately fell back into the silent patience she'd displayed on Taris, waiting for him to continue at his own pace. "Four years ago Saul led the Sith fleet to my homeworld, Telos, and demanded its surrender. The planet refused, and Saul proceeded to devastate its entire surface. Millions died."

An icy feeling of dread settling in her stomach. "And among those millions?"

Carth hunched over, heaving a sigh that seemed to sink all the way to his toes. "My wife." It took all of Ilithia's self-discipline to keep still. "And my son. I thought they would be safe there." He shook his head, staring blankly at the rail in a vain effort to avoid the memories swirling through his mind. "My task force arrived too late to be of much help, and we didn't have enough medical supplies. The colony was burning and the dying were…everywhere." With each word he felt like another stitch was being ripped out of a wound that had never healed, leaving him feeling as bleeding and broken now, standing in the quiet gloom next to a beautiful Jedi with an inexplicable interest in him, as he had on that terrible day. "I remember holding my wife, screaming for the medics…." He felt the tears coming and turned quickly away, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Carth…" Ilithia's head felt like it had been split in two by a Gamorrean war-axe. The hand that still rested on his arm felt numb; she almost wanted to pull away, feeling presumptuous and suddenly unworthy. "And –" her voice choked out, needing to fill the silence and finish the job. "And your son?"

"I don't know," Carth sighed. "I never found any trace of him…there wasn't much of anything in the colony that was left to find." He turned back towards Ilithia enough so she could see his face. "I made inquiries and followed the reports from Telos for years, just in case, but eventually I…I stopped. So that's the whole story," he finished with a final, trembling sigh.

Ilithia nodded mechanically, her mind still stuck on the word 'wife'. "You must miss them both terribly," she mumbled.

If she'd thought Carth couldn't look even more miserable than he already did, the spasms of grief and regret that flooded through him proved her wrong. "Well…I – I wasn't around a lot. Always off with the militia or the Fleet for months at a time, and then during the wars I was gone for years. I'd come back long enough for Dustil – my son – to start recognizing me, and then I'd be gone again." _Even when he was older he'd still pretend not to recognize me when I'd come home, just in case I didn't already feel guilty enough for missing so much of his life_. "And my wife…we'd been up and down ever since the beginning, and as the years went by and the separations added up the highs got lower and the lows..." He shook his head and let out a sharp, rueful laugh. "Crazy in love when I'd first get home, but then gradually we'd start fighting, about the Fleet, about anything, and I'd be this close to packing up my things and walking out for good when it'd be time for another deployment. After Mandalorians were finally defeated I put in the paperwork to retire when my service contract was up, to go home, to really give my marriage and my family the attention they deserved, even though I knew it might be too late…I still had two months to go when Telos was attacked."

There was nothing else for Ilithia to do but whisper "I'm sorry," even as she winced with the knowledge of how inadequate those words were.

"I…I've never talked about this before. With anyone." He reached over and covered her hand with one of his, cracking a slight grin at how predictably cold her skin felt. "But you deserved to know."

"Thanks," she whispered, curling her hand underneath his. Their surroundings began to lighten – they were nearing the Walkway.

"We can talk more after all this is done," Carth added, glancing upwards as the Walkway came into view. "On our way to Tatooine."

* * *

"That Thaylian bog-slime," growled Matton, the merchant's 'helper' at the Czerka docks, as he watched the figure of his former master sprinting towards the gates to the Walkway. "I've been here thirty-six days, slaving to pay a debt in good faith…and all along he was the one who put me in this position by killing my crew and –" He shook his head, too angry to continue.

Ilithia sighed. Luckily, they'd only had to fight through one group of Wookiees on their way back to the Czerka docks, but time was still short. "Well, he won't last long hiding in the Shadowlands."

"Maybe I should head back to make sure I locked my door," Jolee grunted behind her.

"I doubt he'll even get that far," Matton said, gesturing towards a worn leather pack stashed behind one of the storange canisters. "He left his blasters." Ilithia snorted and shook her head in disgust.

Carth, standing at her elbow, stirred. "I have to admit, I'm surprised you let him get away," he said, his voice strangely tense. "I don't know if I could have been that…forgiving."

"Well," Matton shrugged, "I could have shot out his legs and let him crawl around for a while, but I consider this far more merciful."

Ilithia thought about giving Carth a meaningful look, but the tight and pensive expression on his face told her he'd already seen the parallel. "So," she said cheerily to Matton, "I bet you're looking forward to getting off this rock and getting on with your life." Jolee and Canderous emerged from the Czerka offices, the Jedi chatting pleasantly with a third man who wore a flight jacket and was carrying and old military-style gear pack.

"I don't know that there's much for me to do other than stay here," Matton replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "No ship, no credits except what I could make if I take over the store and convince Eli's suppliers to work with me."

"That's…not going to be a good idea," she said slowly. "This planet is about to become very dangerous for anyone even remotely associated with Czerka." Matton started nodding slowly, his eyes dropping briefly to her lightsabers. "I've taken the liberty of getting you a seat on the next shuttle out of here so you can –"

Her words were cut off by the need to jump back a few steps as the pilot Jolee and Canderous were escorting practically threw himself at a stunned Carth. "Carth Onasi, is that you!"

Carth had to squint at the other man for a moment before the recognition came. "J – Jordo?" he stammered.

The pilot didn't even bother to nod, throwing his arms around Carth enthusiastically. "I don't believe it – how have you been?" Carth started to say something in reply, but his old friend was too excited to be stopped. "I thought for sure an old spacedog like you would be fighting on some ship out there."

"I was," Carth protested with a laugh. "But I crashed."

"Really?" Jordo replied, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's pretty rich. I can't imagine what it would take to keep you on the ground." To Ilithia's horror, Carth immediately glanced over at her. "Oh…ah, how do you do, miss?" Jordo said quickly, suppressing a surprised grin as he extended his hand.

Ilithia shook his hand lightly. "Nice to meet you," she said, pausing to glare at a sniggering Jolee. "I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do," she continued, giving Carth a _you're-dead_ grin – which only made him blush – "So we'll finish up here and meet you back down at the gate to the Walkway." Carth barely managed a feeble nod before Jordo had him by the arm and dragged him off in the direction of the landing pads, jabbering excitedly.

Matton cleared his throat. "So that's my ride?"

"Yea," Ilithia said quickly, plunging her hand into her pack and pulling out a fistful of credits. "And this is to make sure your stay on your next planet is a lot nicer than your stay here was."

The mechanic tried to back away. "You don't have to –"

"No, I don't," Ilithia cut in, thrusting the credits at Matton. "But I'm going to anyway." Matton looked like he was going to argue with her for a moment, but eventually took the credits while mumbling reluctant but genuine thanks. "Good luck on…" She hesitated, realizing she didn't know –

_Corellia_.

The shock of hearing Jolee's voice rumbling in her mind froze Ilithia for a few seconds. "Well…uh, wherever you're going," she finally forced out, shaking herself back into reality.

"Thanks," Matton grinned, picking up his pack. "Safe flying to you, too." He strolled off in the same direction Carth and his friend had gone, his step joyful and light.

Ilithia whirled around. "Don't tell me I've got a Force bond with you, too," she snapped at Jolee.

"What are you talking about?" the elderly Jedi replied defensively. Canderous decided to start rifling through Eli's supplies for any spare blaster upgrades.

"The only person who's ever talked to me in my head like that is Bastila," Ilithia explained. The harsh emphasis she put on the young Jedi's name produced a small "oh" of understanding from Jolee. "And that's got to be because of that 'bond' I'm stuck with."

Jolee shook his head, chuckling. "Nope. Nothing to do with that." Ilithia blinked, frowning in confusion. "Almost anyone who can feel the Force can project their thoughts into someone else's mind. It's just ordinary politeness not to do that unless invited, which is probably why no one but Bastila's tried it with you."

"Oh," Ilithia replied, crossing her arms over her chest. _Funny how Bastila neglected to mention that_. "So what does the fact that you just did it say about your respect for privacy and 'ordinary politeness'?"

"That I don't have any," Jolee said gleefully. _Interesting that she'd even care_.

Her frown twisted into a scowl. "Well I do, so don't do it again if you don't have to, especially not around the others." Jolee said nothing in reply, just narrowing his eyes in the slight, pensive frown he often seemed to wear. "And stop looking at me like that," Ilithia added.

Jolee's face became a picture of placid innocence. "Like what?"

"Like…" Ilithia frowned – she wasn't sure how to describe the mixture of expectation, suspicion and surprise that she usually felt from Jolee, only how it made her feel. "Like you think I should be shorter." Jolee's expression wavered for a moment before going back to serene ignorance. "If you've got something you want to talk about just let me know, but I've already got enough eyes burning holes in the back of my armor," she muttered, turning to cast a glance towards the landing pads.

"Right," Jolee grunted. "The flyboy."

_Not again…_ "Bastila's already read me the riot act about 'emotional attachments' so you can save your breath," Ilithia growled.

The old man laughed, but there was no humor in his eyes. "Far be it for me to try to lecture headstrong young women about the potential dangers of canoodling with dashing pilots."

Ilithia rolled her eyes back so far she was surprised when they didn't stick. _Why bother with the lecture when the one-sentence summary will suffice?_ "Does everyone have an opinion about this?" she muttered.

"If you're half as energetic in bed as you are in battle, I suggest keeping a medkit handy," Canderous' voice rumbled from amongst the supply crates. "And buy him a new jacket," he added, straightening up while examining a mint-condition accuracy scope with glee. "Orange is definitely not his color."

"Thanks," she said slowly, not sure whether she should burst out laughing at the idea that Mandalorians had fashion sense or slug him for having pictured her in bed – _and doing what…with whom…ick_. "I'll do that." She settled for scanning the docks for any sign of Carth, regretting for a moment that he was in the silvery grey armor pinched from Calo Nord's corpse rather than the much-maligned-but-easier-to-spot jacket. It had only been a few minutes, but Jordo had a shuttle to fly, and they had a Wookiee rebellion to instigate.

She finally spied him just a few steps from the gateway to the Czerka landing pad, leaning on the railing and gazing out at the forest, alone. "I'll go grab our pilot and we'll meet you guys down at the gate, okay?" Canderous shrugged his assent, unconcerned, but Jolee stood silently as Ilithia headed up the ramp towards Carth.

The set of his shoulders told her something was wrong long before her Jedi senses did. They were slumped, as if he was exhausted and was leaning on the railing for support. _Oh no…_ "Carth!" His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, his face pale and streaked with tears. Grief mingled with hope poured from his senses, and a name: Dustil. "What happened?" she asked softly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop as she came alongside. _She's got enough to worry about already; I can't put this on her, too_. "It's nothing – I'm fine," he choked out, his voice raw.

"Carth," she said gently, moving one arm to offer him some more support, "I have Jedi senses now, remember?"

He laughed sadly. "Right." He tried to wipe his tears away, sniffing. "You already know it's about Dustil, then?"

Ilithia frowned guiltily. "Every feeling you have is screaming his name – I couldn't help hearing it," she confessed.

"I suppose not," he sighed, shaking his head. "But you've got much more important things to worry about, I'm sure the Jedi –"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I decide what's important to me, not the Jedi," she snapped, harshly enough to make him wonder if Jolee had started preaching about the sanctity of the Jedi Code, too. "And what's important to you is important to me." Carth's features convulsed, threatening another wave of tears. "Is he…is he dead?" she asked in a fearful whisper.

"No!" he exclaimed, forcing himself to look away from her. "No – that's what Jordo told me – Dustil's alive!"

An incredulous, joyful smile filled Ilithia's face. "Carth, that's wonder –" feelings of confusion and pain spiked in his senses – "Only it's not," she finished, frowning.

"He's on Korriban," Carth whispered. "At…at the S-Sith Academy. He's studying – " He broke off, one tear sliding free.

"To be a dark Jedi," she finished, a dull ache rising in her own emotions. "Carth –"

Suddenly he shook her arm off, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned as pale as his face. "I don't want to talk about this now."

_Not this again._ "Carth…"

"We're already running late," he snapped, pushing himself away from the railing and stalking down the ramp. "That Wookiee's counting on us to be there." Ilithia followed, concern creasing her features. "We…we can talk about this later," Carth said quietly.

Ilithia nodded reluctantly – she was dying to ask, but they were running late. "Alright." Jolee and Canderous came into view, flanking either side of the gate to the Walkway. "But you haven't forgotten what my definition of later is, right?"

"The first chance you get," Carth replied with a short, shallow laugh. "No, I haven't."

"Just checking," she murmured. Canderous pushed the gate open, and after giving the Czerka guards a _wouldn't-want-to-be-you_ glance, the four companions passed down and headed towards the Wookiee village.

* * *

Ilithia swirled the contents of her cup, studying the patterns it left on the curved sides as the remaining liquid flowed downwards. She knew Jolee had told her what this stuff was, and that it was "pretty strong, even for you kids," but after the third joyfully hooting Wookiee had given her a refill she'd forgotten the rest. _Stronger than Tarisian ale but not as flavorful…I'll just finish this one off and head back to the ship_. Her wounds from the fight with Chuundar still smarted, despite Jolee's healing skill, and after all the distance she'd covered in the last two days a week of boredom in hyperspace would be the most luxurious vacation imaginable.

Freyyr's challenge of his son's leadership had gone as well as Ilithia had expected – Chuundar and his followers had reacted violently, paying for their crimes with their lives. The hilt of Bacca's sword, which had been in Chuundar's possession, was reunited with its blade and then given to Zaalbar, who now seemed to be the designated successor to his father's restored rule. _A happy ending at last_, Ilithia mused, thinking ruefully of all the good works on Taris lost to the Sith attack and her failure to reconcile the feuding families on Dantooine. The boundless, optimistic joy of the Wookiees gathered around their village fires was almost enough to make up for that.

Her gaze was inevitably drawn to Carth – he had replaced his armor with the familiar orange jacket, and despite the headache she almost always got from staring at it too long she couldn't help but seek it out in a crowd. He'd detached himself from the revelry almost immediately after it had begun, staking out a section of railing over in a distant corner of the village. _No sense in putting this off much longer_. She drained the rest of her drink, then frowned at the empty cup for a moment before grabbing a new, brimming mug off a nearby table and heading over towards Carth.

He didn't even turn around at the sound of her footsteps. "Took you long enough."

"You'd rather I pester you more often?" Carth chuckled once and shook his head, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his drink. "So…are you okay?" she asked quietly, stepping up next to him.

"Why do you ask?" he replied, staring off into the dark forest.

"Oh, I don't know," Ilithia said nonchalantly. "It's just that we've helped the Wookiees get rid of Chuundar, Czerka, and their slavers – even Canderous is celebrating – and here you are, off to the side, alone, and looking, well, miserable."

_And in the middle of all that she takes the time to come and be with me_. "Yeah, well, you try finding out your supposedly-dead son is alive and with the Sith and let me know what sort of a mood you'd be in," he muttered.

"You don't think I've already contemplated the possibility that my brother could be his roommate?" Ilithia asked softly.

_Brother…right_. Carth felt like an idiot. Again. "Oh."

"I turned out to be Force sensitive, so maybe he did too," she continued sadly. "And given the company I think he's keeping these days, I don't think he'd be invited to Dantooine."

He buried his embarrassment in his mug. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he mumbled.

Ilithia let out a single, short laugh. "It's okay to say you'd forgotten about him – he's been missing for five years but I didn't care enough to bother to look for him until now," she said bitterly. "And then only when I had other reasons for giving up scouting and joining the Fleet, first, and now the Jedi. Some sister I am." Carth blanched and turned away suddenly, white-knuckled hands gripping his mug. The grief and regret Ilithia had sensed in him up at the docks stormed back into his emotions. "You're not the only one who's family got messed up by the Sith," she told him gently, leaning in close to him.

"You don't know anything about it," he hissed, shifting away from her.

"And you don't have to tell me anything about it if you don't want to, but do not close yourself off and pull away from me," she said, her voice low and taut. _I never thought I'd prefer trying to get information out of homicidal computers rather than an obstinate man_. "I am not dancing this dance with you a second time."

"Why?" he croaked, his face a mask of self-loathing and pain. "Why would you want to know? Why do you care?"

The combination of fatigue, blood loss, and alcohol deprived Ilithia of the energy necessary to be witty or dissembling. "Because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since we met," she snapped, knowing her true feelings were tumbling out but too fed up with their missteps and mistakes to care. "Because you're stubborn, and strong, and every time you let me get close enough to get a taste of you I come away wanting more –" She broke off with an angry sigh.

The unleashed emotions flooding her face were too much for Carth to bear to look at. "Ilithia…I am a dried up, bitter, old man."

"No you're not," Ilithia insisted. "Maybe you've lived with that part of yourself for so long that's all you see…but that's not what I see. I see a man of conscience and courage, of principles; a loyal man, rightfully wounded by a friend's betrayal and its consequences, but who will never let me down." She laid a hand lightly on his arm. "Do you know how important that is to me? How much it means to me to have someone who can keep my feet on the ground?" _You drive me nuts_, she thought with a wry grin,_ but I need that sometimes_.

Dumbstruck, he forced himself to look back to her. _How…what did I do to deserve her?_ The glimmer of light her smile always drew out of him kindled and leapt to life, enfolding him in its warmth. _So beautiful…_

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stand there staring at me like I've grown a second head?" Ilithia muttered anxiously.

"Sorry," he said quickly, shaking off his bewilderment to reach over and pull her towards him. "I was just…admiring you." He brushed a disobedient strand of hair off her forehead with one thumb, then impulsively traced that path with a gentle kiss.

_Or you could do that_, she thought, failing to hold back a soft moan. _Just in case I wasn't already addicted to your touch_.

"I'll have you know I used to be a lot better at this," Carth whispered.

Ilithia nodded, brushing her lips up against his collar. "I don't doubt it." She pressed herself close against him for a moment, then backed away with a reluctant sigh. "You've had a rough day," she said slowly. "I won't pester you anymore."

"No –" he said hurriedly, his hands following her. "Stay."

She sidestepped his grasp. "It's alright, Carth. You said you needed time to get used to the idea of…of doing this again, and you must need that even more now."

"I do need some time," Carth admitted. _To help Dustil, to deal with Saul…and then to have my way with you_. "But I also need to talk." Ilithia leaned back against the railing, careful to keep herself a few inches away from him while she gave him an _are-you-sure?_ look. "Please stay," he said fervently. "I'll tell you everything."

A gentle smile spread across her face. "I told you all your secrets would be mine," she purred.

Carth chuckled, remembering. "I really should take everything you say at face value, shouldn't I?"

An eyebrow went up. "You're just now figuring that out?"

"I'm just starting to figure a lot of things out." His quiet admission was met by her conciliatory blush. "Ask away," he murmured, grasping the railing in anticipation.

"Why are you so upset with yourself?" Ilithia asked quickly, skewering him with her eyes.

"I…" He wrung his hands around the railing, his guilt surfacing. "I was a horrible husband, and not much better of a father. It's bad enough I failed them once, not being there, not protecting them, but now…now I know I failed a second time." Ilithia raised a hand, ready to protest, but thought better of it and stayed silent. "I thought I'd looked everywhere," Carth continued miserably. "I thought I'd tried everything. And all this time he's been alive…" He leaned over onto the railing, sighing heavily. "I want to sprint back to the ship and take off to find him, to save him, but if he's as angry at me as he was, and a Sith…"

_It's not exactly going to be hugs and smiles and happy how-have-you-been's_, Ilithia thought, nodding sadly. "We're both taking that risk," she said, after waiting to make sure he'd said all he wanted to say for the moment. "I don't think my brother was angry at me for anything, but we've been separated for much longer than you and your son so I've no idea how he feels about me now. And he was one of the original converts," she added gloomily. "Probably directly influenced by Revan herself. I've no guarantee his first reaction to seeing me again isn't going to be a barrage of blaster fire at my head. Especially now," she muttered, glancing down at one of her lightsabers.

"What would you do?" he asked in a whisper.

"I – I don't really know," she shuddered. "I guess I'd consider it a chance to change his mind, but if I couldn't…" She shook her head quickly, cutting off that line of conversation. _I don't want to think about that. Not now. Not tonight_. A long silence passed before she wrestled her thoughts into submission and raised her eyes to gaze upon Carth anxiously. "Can I…can I ask you something?"

"I said I'd tell you everything," he chided her gently. She had the good humor to blush. "I meant it."

Ilithia took a deep, cautious breath and plunged ahead. "What was she like?"

Carth didn't have to wonder what Ilithia was really asking. "She was kind," he said fondly, his eyes softening. "She had courage, and she was stubborn – I could never talk her out of anything once she had put her mind to it." He gave a small laugh as he looked over at Ilithia, who was trying so hard not to seem nervous that she seemed…nervous. "A lot like you, in that respect." _An endearing, adorable nervous, to be sure_. "But she was calmer, quieter than you are, or probably ever will be." Ilithia let out a chuckle, shaking her head and starting to relax. "Whenever she had something she wanted to say, or ask, she'd drop little hints and then wait for me to figure it out – which of course I never did," he continued, grinning sadly.

"As opposed to me, who'll just flat-out ask you anything, anytime," Ilithia said.

Carth leaned ever further forward on the railing, shifting his elbows a few inches closer to hers. "Or shout it out so loudly the whole ship can hear," he teased. He enjoyed her blush and half-hearted indignant mumblings for a moment, studying the bright, almost orange highlights the burning fires behind them illuminated in her hair. "A raging firestorm as opposed to smoldering embers," he murmured affectionately.

"One brings warmth and comfort, the other death and destruction," Ilithia sniped. "Thanks."

"No – one grows cold and crumbles into ash," he replied quickly, laying a reassuring hand on her arm, "And while the other might singe you if you're not careful, it'll burn steady, enveloping you, and won't ever let you go."

_Translation: he thinks he'd prefer the firestorm_. "Oh – okay," she stammered.

He turned back away from her to stare blankly out into the forest, but did not remove his hand. "There's more to it," he sighed. "Even if she'd survived the attack…well, I wouldn't have been content to stay home and do nothing when there was a war going on, with the men and women I'd led for years out on the front lines again. Especially after that war had been brought to my own doorstep."

"You would've signed back on for another tour," Ilithia murmured, her momentary apprehension fading into sympathy. _He led them, he trained them, he saw them more than he saw his family…they were part of his family_. "No matter how much your wife hated it…or hated you for it." _Lovely choice, that_.

"She nearly walked out on me when I re-upped during the Mandalorian Wars." _Damned if I did and damned if I didn't_. "She would've done it this time, taking Dustil with her. I – I never would've seen them again," he choked out, his throat suddenly contracting as the emotions within him clamored for release.

Ilithia watched Carth warily, her senses touching the fringes of a rage so deep within him it left her skin prickling. _We'll deal with that later_, she thought. _At least I understand its source now_. "We'll get him out of there, Carth," she whispered, offering him the only comfort she could. "I promise you that."

The muscles around his eyes began twitching. Carth turned his head away, quickly, willing the tears to stay inside, but as he felt Ilithia's arms encircle him he surrendered, slumping against her, sobbing. She gasped at the sudden flood of emotions swirling around them. "Carth," she whispered, tightening her grip on his sagging form. She tried to use the Force to comfort him with her empathy, her understanding, her concern, and a thousand other feelings she didn't dare name.

They stayed like that for a long while, oblivious to the celebrations, the rustlings in the trees, even the sight of Jolee physically restraining Bastila from storming down upon them. Eventually the sharpness of Carth's pain dulled, and the depth of his anger shallowed until he lay silent, resting contentedly in the still waters of Ilithia's embrace. _I never let myself hope – I never let myself dare to hope – that I could ever find another woman to love, let alone be free enough for me to love her. But this one…every time she touches me I believe a little more._

_

* * *

_

_I will miss the sound of the forest at night_, Jolee thought. The chirping insects, the croaking tach monkeys, even the strangled trumpeting of the kinrath, blending together in a discordant yet unified symphony that had always resonated in some deep place in his mind. It had given him peace for the last twenty years, but here he was, leaving it behind just when he was going to start needing it even more. _But when the Force starts swirling, hop onto the nearest ship and try to enjoy the ride_.

A movement at the far end of the walkway caught his eyes. _Ah, the lovebirds_. Carth and Ilithia were standing close together on one of the narrower parts of the walk, having what looked like a very intense conversation. _Going to have to figure that out, but not tonight_. Jolee turned around, heading back towards the bonfire, just in time to be crashed into by a charging Bastila.

"Excuse me, Master Bindo," she said curtly, pushing to get past him.

"Oh, no, missy," he replied, glancing over at the oblivious targets of Bastila's fury. "You're not going over there."

She shrugged out of his grip and hurled herself towards Carth and Ilithia. "I have to stop them!" she hissed.

Jolee got a hand on the back of her robes, nearly pulling her off her feet. "Don't waste your time," he said, hauling her away. "You're not going to be able to stop that, no matter what you say."

"But it's too dangerous – she's a brand-new Jedi, she doesn't know how to handle her emotions yet!" Bastila cried, staring despairingly over at the now-embracing couple.

Jolee turned and fixed Bastila with a frigid glare. "She is not a new Jedi."

Bastila spluttered indignantly for a moment, then suddenly stopped, shock and recognition spreading through her senses. "You met her…before, didn't you?"

"When she was seven," Jolee confirmed with a nod.

"That was quite a long time ago," she said, trying to recover.

The old man's expression softened a fraction. "She's pretty close to impossible to forget."

"You won't tell her, will you?" Bastila whispered, paling.

Jolee shook his head. "No, no – I had no part in the deceptions that have led her here, so it's not my responsibility to bring them to an end. That, my dear," he said, regarding Bastila with disapproval, "Is your job."

She paled even further. "She doesn't need to know. It would only put her in greater danger."

"She's going to run into Malak sooner or lateer," Jolee cautioned. "Better she find out from someone she respects and trusts, someone who can guide her gently to the truth, than from someone who'll use it as a weapon against her." He looked pointedly over at Carth and Ilithia, now wrapped in a silent, comforting embrace. "And those she cares about."

"She doesn't trust or respect me," Bastila sulked.

"Yes she does," Jolee countered, eyeing the young Jedi thoughtfully. "She doesn't like you, but she respects your ability. And she may disagree with your advice, but she trusts that you're giving her your honest opinion. She appreciates that."

Of all the reactions he might have expected, a flattered blush was not one of them. "Do – do you really think that?" Bastila stammered nervously.

Jolee gave Bastila the same warily appraising look he usually gave Ilithia. "Yes, I do. Which is exactly why you need to tell her the truth."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"The longer you let this go, the more everyone is going to be hurt when she's…unmasked," he said, his voice low and angry. "You and the Jedi Council already have to answer to her for her own pain – now you're going to have to answer to her for what the truth is going to do to him." Bastila's lips twisted pensively. "To them," he added, glancing back over at the pair, still clutching each as desperately as drowning souls grasping for a lifeline.

Bastila's features darkened with every moment she spent watching the couple. "It wouldn't be anything she didn't deserve," she spat with surprising vehemence. The faces of dozens of friends maimed or killed in the wars floated just beneath her consciousness, whispering of their desire for retribution. "It wouldn't have been right for her to die then and there, but she must face judgment for her crimes."

"But after whatever you and the Council have done to her, are they really her crimes? Ilithia's crimes?" Jolee asked calmly. "And what has Carth done to deserve being punished alongside her?" Bastila's scowl deepened as she looked away, confused. "You're a bit young to be dealing out judgment to anyone, don't you think?"

"I am one of the most experienced Jedi in the entire galaxy," Bastila snapped, bristling.

Jolee nodded slowly, refocusing his gaze on Bastila. "Then why do you think all the others treat you like a child?"

A crimson flush blossomed beneath her pale skin. "I – I am much younger than she is," Bastila conceded. "I would hope they will eventually see beyond the numerical fact of my age and recognize the experience my Battle Meditation has given me, but I cannot control their perceptions." _She speaks to the little Twi'lek as an equal, but cannot be bothered to show me such a courtesy, in spite of our bond_.

"You can't control them, no," Jolee said slowly, "But you can shape them." _Golden rule, missy – treat her the way you want to be treated_. "If she thinks of you as a child it's because your words and actions have given her no reason to think of you otherwise."

"What am I supposed to do?" Bastila huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. "Stand aside and let her blunder her way into darkness by giving into these…forbidden urges?"

'_Forbidden'?_ "You're supposed to trust her to find her own way, and you need to understand that her way will not be the same as yours," Jolee replied gently. _Not 'repulsive' or 'undesirable'?_

Bastila continued scowling for a few more moments before nodding reluctantly. "I…I see your point," she sighed. "I will meditate upon this. Thank you for your advice."

"Don't thank me for it unless you're going to use it," Jolee rumbled.

"Yes, yes, of course," she said quickly. "I –"

Jolee didn't even have to look up to know the cause of Bastila's sudden silence – Ilithia and Carth had abandoned their secluded corner and were advancing quickly towards the two Jedi. "Be patient," he whispered to Bastila before turning to greet the couple with a wave.

Ilithia returned his gesture. "We're going to head back to the ship and crash," she said, shifting a _what-have-you-two-been-up-to_ gaze between the two Jedi.

Bastila's self-control didn't last beyond the word 'we'. "Together?" she asked testily, her voice dripping with disapproval.

Jolee saw the flash of anger rise in Ilithia's eyes, then just as quickly fade away as she took a deep, calming breath. "The Walkway is still dangerous – no one should travel it alone." She turned away from Bastila. "We'll raid the Czerka storerooms for supplies and head out in the morning," she said evenly. "Jolee, you're welcome to hitch a ride with us if you want."

"Wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun," he grinned in reply. "Thanks." Ilithia nodded sharply, then started walking towards the gates. "By the way," Jolee called after her, "Where are we going next?"

"Korriban," she replied immediately, without breaking her stride.

"Korriban!" Bastila yelped. "But that's –"

"Where the Sith Academy is," Ilithia cut in, looking up first not at Bastila but at Carth, who wore a strange expression of mingled shock, fear, and adoration. "I know. If you want to argue about it in the morning, that's fine with me. But that's where we're going." She turned her back on Bastila and strode away, Carth following just a half-step behind.

Jolee let out a low whistle. _Now that was interesting_. Bastila wheeled around, apparently willing to unleash a tirade on Jolee if she couldn't do it to the real subject of her ire, but he waved her away, his eyes never leaving the retreating couple. They stopped when they reached the gate, exchanging a few words – Carth, worried but grateful – Ilithia, betraying a hint of nervousness, but confident and determined. Jolee was about to turn back to the celebrations with a shrug and a sigh – _kids_ – when Ilithia reached over and took Carth's hand in hers. The strength of the affection and peace that surged through both of them was enough to take even Jolee's breath away. _It's a small thing_, the old Jedi thought as he watched the two youngsters pass through the gates and start up the Walkway, twining their fingers together to clasp the other's hand even tighter. _But they always say it's the small things that make the biggest difference._


	4. Ghosts

Author's Note: Much apologizings for the incredibly long delay in posts…I haven't forgotten Ilithia (or more accurately for all the other obsessive writers out there, she hasn't forgotten me), but life and work have been unbelievably busy and sapped my energy for gameplaying and writing for the last several months. But some persistent commenters (I usually don't have time to reply, but I do read – many thanks and please keep writing!) and friends have gotten me back on track, so here is the first part of my next chapter. I hope to have the full version up sometime in February. Thanks for your patience, and enjoy!

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Ilithia had barely taken two steps out of the _Ebon Hawk_'s bathroom, her hair still frizzy from the sonic refresher, when Bastila appeared, arms crossed over her chest and an indignant scowl on her face. "Is now a good time to discuss our travel plans?" the young Jedi asked snippily.

_What cosmic power did I tick off to deserve this?_ "Sure."

"I would like to know the reason for the sudden change in plans," Bastila said, trying to reach through the bond to sense the other woman's thoughts. A mental slap and a hissed _Bad Jedi!_ from Ilithia were her reward. "I was under the impression that Tatooine would be our next destination," she continued in a slightly less hostile tone.

"That was the original plan, yes," Ilithia replied, making her way towards the common room and the breakfast she'd hoped to enjoy in peace. "But I've decided to deal with Korriban now, rather than later."

All their other companions, now including Jolee, were seated at the central table, glumly pushing the lumpy slop the Ebon Hawk's synthesizer dispensed around in their bowls in the vain hope they could get up the courage to actually eat it. "Really?" Bastila said skeptically. "And why is that?"

Ilithia's gaze flickered over to Carth – _he never said I could say anything_. "Uh…"

"It's because of me," he sighed. As hard as it had been to finally tell Ilithia, and as much as he hated having to bother everyone else with his personal troubles, they did deserve to know what was going on. "My son Dustil survived the attack on Telos and is attending the Sith Academy on Korriban."

Bastila didn't even wait for Carth to finish before she shifted her glare back to Ilithia. _You are letting your personal feelings interfere with the greater mission_, she sent to the older woman. _The Star Maps take priority over everything else!_

"I figure if Dustil has half the strength and skill his father does, then he's probably going to turn out to be one hell of a dark Jedi," Ilithia said aloud, trying to ignore the flash of pain in Carth's emotions. "I don't fancy the idea of having to fight him later, so we're going for him now." _And I'm terrified of what would happen if I ever had to kill him_, she thought, suppressing a shudder.

"Ilithia," Carth said in a low voice. "We can wait – it's been four years – a few more weeks won't change anything."

She rounded on him. "If we are going to have the Sith sucking in our exhaust fumes from one end of the galaxy to the other I need my pilot focused and firing on all thrusters – which you won't be until this is taken care of," she said evenly. _Not a bad argument considering I'm making it up as I go_. "I wanted to go to Korriban last, but we'll go now."

"Korriban is ruled by the Sith. It is a dangerous place – quite possibly the most dangerous planet we will visit," Bastila countered. "It is strong in the Dark Side – if you go there too soon you may fall prey to its influence."

"Then I'll have to make sure our stay there is a short one," Ilithia said tightly. _I know it's a risk…but I made a promise_. She surveyed the facial expressions of the others – _doesn't care: Canderous, Zaalbar, and T3, wherever he is; worried Bastila's right: the Ice Princess herself, and Jolee; thinks I'm a goddess and can do no wrong: Mission, Juhani – and Carth_. Whose vote was the only one she cared about in the first place. "Secure the ship for takeoff."

_I will speak with you about this later_, Bastila's voice growled. Ilithia ignored her, turning her back to her and striding off towards the cockpit. The other crewmembers quickly rose and moved off to check on the other parts of the ship, careful to avoid accidentally catching Bastila's gaze.

Carth was the last to move, glaring blaster bolts at his breakfast until Bastila and all the others were gone. _She's doing this for me…willing to blow up all our plans, pissing off Bastila and probably the Jedi Council itself. For me_. He stood and stretched, then slouched down the passageway until he came to the doorway to the cockpit. She'd dumped herself into the co-pilot's seat, one hand draped over her eyes. A shift in the set of her shoulders told him she knew he was there. "Can I ask you something?" Carth ventured softly. Ilithia nodded. "You said you wanted to go to Korriban last – why?"

She frowned, peering down at the instrument panel between her splayed fingers. "Taris was crawling with Sith, but except for that one guy in the base those were just regular troopers. Korriban's full of dark Jedi. Dozens, maybe even hundreds." _And Dustil's one of them,_ she thought, watching Carth wince at the same unspoken fact. "It was the home of ancient Sith Lords – the Map's in one of their tombs. Even the glimpse I had of it last night kept me awake for hours."

"You didn't sleep?" he asked quickly, his features creasing with concern as he lowered himself into the pilot's chair.

Ilithia shrugged, removing her hand from her face and sitting up in her seat. "Not well," she sighed.

He fought back the impulse to reach over and take her hand in his. "Any particular reason why?"

"You mean other than having dreams about Dark Lords?" she snorted, allowing herself a chuckle as Carth realized what an incredibly stupid question that had been. "Or were you hoping I'd been dreaming about a different tall, dark, and – well," she stopped herself, frowning. "I wouldn't describe Malak as he is as handsome, but I suppose he must've been at some point. Anyhow," she continued, brightening, "Somebody other than him." Carth just sat silently, frowning at her. _Okay, so much for trying to lighten the mood_. "I mean, how long has he had that jaw thing?" she muttered, suddenly feeling very much like a foolish child. _Darth Malak's not exactly a subject that lends itself to blithe banter._

"I don't know," Carth sighed. "He didn't have it at the final battle against the Mandalorians on Malachor V, so sometime after that." Ilithia nodded, doing the math. "But a lot of the female officers I served with did actually think he was rather dashing before the jaw…and before he shaved his head and got those tattoos," he added with a sad flicker of a smile, recalling the appearance of a young, unspoiled Jedi who'd come to fight with the Republic forces in the war's earliest days.

An image of loose, flowing curls of dark hair and a full but neatly-trimmed beard floated through Ilithia's mind. "You knew him personally?" she asked cautiously.

Carth shook his head vigorously. "No. My ship was part of his command, but I only ever met him once. I was impressed," he said softly. "I guess that just shows how much the dark side can change someone."

"Do you know why they turned to the dark side?" she heard herself ask.

"Nobody does, really," Carth replied quickly. "Those of us that were high enough up in the ranks could tell they were changing. When they came out to fight in the wars, they were Jedi," he continued, tossing an inscrutable glance back towards the main compartments of the ship. "But by the time the wars ended…well, I don't know if they were Sith yet but they sure as hell weren't Jedi anymore." Carth hunched forwards, dropping his head into his hands. "They both stopped wearing Jedi robes. Malak's appearance changed, though I never knew anybody who got close enough to Revan to see if he – if she had done anything similar," he corrected himself after Ilithia had cleared her throat audibly, one eyebrow arched expectantly. "But most of all, their tactics – Revan's tactics, I guess – got riskier, with almost no regard for casualties on either side. Victory was all that mattered."

Ilithia bit her lip and frowned. "But considering the enemy had no regard for casualties and only cared about victory, do you think maybe Revan thought that was the only way the Republic could win?"

_She's still thinking about that damn computer_. "I don't know," he admitted with a sigh. "Maybe. But maybe that was the way Revan had wanted to fight all along." He'd never questioned Revan's orders, even when he knew the casualties on their side were bound to be high. _That was the price of defeating the Mandalorians…and if I knew it, Revan knew it too_. "Either way, I guess she did feel that was the only way to win. I don't know how she could have lived with some of the orders she gave otherwise," he added softly.

"I guess," Ilithia echoed. "How much did you know about her?"

"Not much," Carth replied, shifting around in his chair. "Nothing that wasn't common knowledge, though there was a rumor in the ranks that one of the first planets attacked was Revan's homeworld. I don't know if that was true or not, but it gave us a respect and an admiration for Revan that led us to fight twice as hard for her as we would've for any other commander." He sat up and cast a baleful glance back down the passageway. "The Jedi sitting up in their ivory tower on Coruscant had no idea what was happening; but Revan, Revan was out there, with us. Revan shared our anger, our pain…they said that was why she risked defying the Council and went to war, because she knew the Mandalorians had to be stopped, and she knew she had to be a part of it, no matter the cost. That was the reason so many of my young recruits defied their parents to sign up, and why I risked angering my wife and alienating my son to be out there with them," his voice grew quiet as his anger ebbed away.

Ilithia almost had to sit on her hands to keep herself from reaching out for him. "You were doing the right thing," she replied in a whisper. "You have to know that."

"I do," he said tightly. "But it doesn't help." Ilithia's face twisted into a look that clearly wondered if killing Saul was supposed to help, too, but she stayed silent, scowling at the deck plating. "I, uh…I don't think I've told you how much I appreciate this," he continued, forcing himself to soften his tone so she wouldn't think he was mad or upset with her. "What you're doing…the risk you're taking…and not just because you're pissing off Bastila." She let off a chagrined chuckle, raising her eyes to stare at the instrument panels. "I just wanted to make sure I said thank you."

She shook her head. "Don't thank me until we're off that planet with Dustil safe and a Star Map's coordinates in my datapad. Like I said, that thing's in some sort of tomb. I'm just hoping it's not an omen."

"Had your regularly scheduled Star Map dream last night, did you?" Carth muttered, frowning.

"Yea," she sighed. "Creepiest one yet, despite the fact that the one on Dantooine involved Revan and Malak and the only living thing I visualized last night was a rat."

"Huh." He frowned harder and ran a hand through his hair. "Odd."

Ilithia broke out into peals of laughter, relaxing back in her chair. "Carth, I don't think there's anything that's happened since Taris that doesn't qualify as 'odd', not to mention 'strange', 'weird', 'unbelievable', 'implausible', and 'flat-out impossible'," she said, grinning through her accumulated exhaustion. "'Odd' doesn't even show up on my scanners these days."

He returned her weary smile. "Fair enough. I suppose –"

"We are ready for departure," Bastila's icy hiss cut in.

_She always has the most impeccably awful timing_. "Okay," Ilithia replied, turning to Carth with an apologetic glance. "Let's get going, then." Bastila whirled around and stomped back down the passageway.

Carth was already reaching for the controls. "Go after her," he told Ilithia, flipping the switches to start the pre-flight checks and load the hyperspace routes. "For the rest of our sakes, if nothing else. It's a full four days to Korriban."

"Yes, sir," she said, sliding slowly out of the co-pilot's seat. "Though I could probably just leave her with Jolee – he seems to annoy her as much as I do."

"I doubt that very much," he snickered.

She managed to make it to two out of a count of three before she gave up and lobbed a credit chip at his head, which he both anticipated and successfully ducked. "I'll deal with you later," she breathed, arching an eyebrow at him as she stood to her full height and stretched.

He couldn't keep his eyes from appreciating the view. "I look forward to it."

The eyebrow went up even further. "We'll see about that," she growled teasingly, lingering in the doorway a second longer than she had to before making her way towards the main hold.

Bastila had fled to the ladies' bunk room on the starboard side of the ship, ousting Mission with an incoherent exclamation and a wave of her hand. She'd flopped down onto the farthest bunk, staring silently at the wall. "I do not wish to argue with you further," she croaked, tightening her hold on the small, flat pillow.

"Neither do I," Ilithia said quickly, dropping to sit on the floor a few feet from Bastila's head. "I'm not here to apologize, either, but…" _Carth is right – this bickering is a distraction that has to stop_. She shuddered, feeling a chill creeping over her. "I'm not a touchy-feely, chatty sort of person, but you looked like you thought we needed to talk."

"What made you think that?" Bastila asked, unmoving.

_The fact that your emotions start to swirl and clash like a lost child in a crowd every time I walk by_. "I don't know," she said, shrugging. "Your face is all scrunched up like a kinrath pup."

Bastila rolled over a few inches, far enough to lock her gaze onto Ilithia. "An amusing description," she said tersely, "But hardly the truth." The older woman colored, but said nothing. "We both know the real reason you have some idea of what I am thinking is the bond we share."

"Maybe," Ilithia said reluctantly, her teeth clenched. Opening up was difficult enough with a willing and reciprocating Carth; she was not about to stick her emotional neck out where it could get lopped off by an unsympathetic, unfeeling Jedi. "Though I don't think we've had any experiences I would describe as 'bonding'."

"If you cannot feel the presence of our bond it is because you've put up a wall as thick as a bantha's skull to keep me out," Bastila snapped, sitting up.

Ilithia crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes to give Bastila the sternest, most reproachful look she could muster. "That's because as soon as you'd figured out we had a bond you started abusing it, poking around in places you weren't invited and saying things in my head you didn't want the others to know," she hissed in reply. "I told you on Dantooine I wouldn't stand for it, and that's even truer now than it was then!"

"So then you do admit that you have felt the bond," Bastila said smoothly, crossing her arms over her chest and returning Ilithia's gaze defiantly.

The older woman spluttered for a moment before twisting her lips into a reluctant scowl. "Maybe," she repeated. "So?"

"Our connection allows us glimpses into each other's mind," Bastila continued, speaking calmly but starting to twist her fingers together apprehensively. "Our destinies are intertwined. Everything one of us does will have consequences for the other. Any reckless behavior on your part is likely to affect me as well."

Ilithia groaned. "If this is just going to degenerate in to another lecture I'm going to think of something thicker than a bantha's skull."

"It is not," Bastila sighed. "I was going to say that thankfully you have exhibited a surprising degree of self-control up to this point, and that I sincerely hope you can maintain, or perhaps even expand upon, that trait in the future," she continued grudgingly. _Except where Captain Onasi is concerned, of course, but I can see there's no use in arguing about that right now_.

"You could warn me when I do something bad," Ilithia said with a soft chuckle, shifting her weight into a more comfortable sitting position. "Blink once for the dark side, twice for light."

"This is not a joke!" Bastila spat indignantly, her face turning an angry red. "The choices you make could affect both our destinies, not to mention the fate of the Republic and the entire galaxy!"

Ilithia waved her hands in front of Bastila to get the younger woman to calm down. "Sorry, sorry!" _Sorry you don't seem to have a sense of humor_. "What are you so worried about anyway – I mean, Darth Malak, dark side, I got that – but what is it, really?" Bastila looked away, biting her lip. _This bond goes both ways, kiddo_, Ilithia sent into the young Jedi's mind. _What aren't you telling me? _ Now it was Bastila's turn to throw up some mental obstacles, to keep Ilithia from wandering into the shadows of her mind, but not before the older woman caught another flash of the very first visions she'd had while unconscious after the crash landing on Taris – Bastila's confrontation with Revan. "Why – what about Revan?" she barked, pushing away the ominous, creeping sensation that was slowly working its way down her spine.

Bastila swallowed nervously, paling. "You must prepare yourself for when we will face Malak," she said slowly. "It seems fate, or the Force, is driving us towards a final confrontation with the Dark Lord…it will be difficult for you." Ilithia nodded patiently, waiting for Bastila to continue. "I remember how hard it was for me when I first faced Revan. A Padawan must receive considerable training, learning to control their emotions and darker impulses. Even though I had spent nearly all my life as a Jedi, when I faced Revan…" She shuddered, pulling her thoughts deep into her own mind, away from the bond. "The call of the dark side was very strong," she finished simply.

"My brother said she could talk anybody into anything," Ilithia sighed.

The young Jedi closed her eyes, replaying the confrontation with the Sith Lord in her mind. "She didn't say a word," Bastila murmured. "But I knew she recognized me. I could feel her eyes on me…burning through me…"

"Recognized you?" _What is this, everybody-talk-about-how-you-knew-Revan day?_

Ilithia's sharp question jolted Bastila out of her reverie. "Yes, I had met her once – well, not really 'met'," she said quickly, trying to hide the trembling in her hands. "Nearly a decade ago, when Jedi Master Kavar brought her – a former apprentice of his – to watch my class practice our combat skills – I thought I wanted to be a Guardian at the time," Bastila added. Kavar and Revan, Malak, Halla Aiye, Zoran, Master Kae…the best of the Guardians were as famous among the Jedi as holovid actors, commanding respect and admiration wherever they went. Sentinals had seemed excruciatingly passive by comparison, merely collecting information and waiting for things to come to them, and the endlessly meditative Consulars were downright boring. The physical demands of a Guardian's training proved too much for her in the end, though, and she'd reluctantly switched into the Sentinal program after barely a year. "I think she had just attained the rank of Jedi Knight, and was contemplating taking an apprentice of her own, so Kavar wanted to show her what she had to choose from. She watched us for a long while, then declared in a very loud voice that not a single one of us was worthy enough to so much as 'polish my crystals'."

"I'm sure that went over well," Ilithia snorted.

"Kavar was still laughing about it a week later," Bastila said, a hint of bitterness tainting her voice. "He even made one student who constantly botched one of the more basic moves disassemble their lightsaber and polish the crystals, to encourage greater attention to detail and preparation."

_I wonder which student that was_. "Well, you ended up facing down Revan and killing her, so it must've worked," Ilithia replied gently.

"I didn't kill Revan," Bastila said quickly. "It was Malak who turned against his own master, firing upon Revan's ship while we were still on board, desiring to kill us and his master both."

"Typical Sith thing to do, I suppose," Ilithia said, closing her eyes to replay the vision in her mind, tracking each movement. The creeping sensation grew stronger, overriding her attempts to ignore it until she broke off her contemplations. _Watching a Sith Lord die in someone else's memory is a strange thing to do_, she told herself as she opened her eyes again.

Bastila was watching her closely. "We were there to capture Revan, not kill her," she said, her lips thin and her words clipped short. "The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners. No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes." She slumped against the back wall of her bunk, shaking her head. "Remember that Revan and Malak were once great Jedi, heroes in every sense of the word. They demonstrate the danger of the dark side to us all."

Ilithia suppressed an exasperated sigh. _She doesn't miss a single opening, does she?_ "What did she look like?" she asked, giving voice to the first subject-changing question that came to mind. "Back then, when you saw her before she was a Sith."

"Even then she favored hooded robes, worn low around her eyes, so that few Jedi who were not her teachers or classmates in her youth knew her face," Bastila replied. _Too many questions with dangerous answers_. "We really shouldn't speak of this anymore. The memory of my confrontation with Revan is…painful," she said curtly, lying back down on the mattress and turning her face towards the wall.

"Fine," Ilithia said, standing quickly, unable to help feeling a little annoyed at being so summarily dismissed. "It's four days to Korriban – occupy yourself however you see fit."

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The four days passed relatively quickly, and in a much lighter mood than that of the trip to Kashyyyk, despite the far more sinister nature of their destination. Carth and Ilithia were flirting rather than fighting, sneaking in an occasional cuddle or kiss on the cheek when they knew Bastila wasn't watching. The bickering between Bastila and Ilithia had also subsided, though everyone figured it was probably only a temporary truce. Jolee added a dash of seasoned irreverence, and even Juhani was more relaxed and talkative. That Canderous and Mission had liberated a large quantity of Corellian ale and Alderaanian firewhisky from the Czerka stores on Kashyyyk couldn't have hurt.

Landing on Korriban was surprisingly easy – despite being a Sith planet, Czerka Corporation had a significant presence, and ran the docking bay at the colony of Dreshdae, a small settlement adjoining the Sith Academy. For the bargain-basement docking fee of 25 credits – "Don't get much traffic here, do they?" Carth muttered – they secured the rights to a topside docking bay for as long as they needed it. As soon as they landed Ilithia headed back towards the common room, only to find the others had already gathered, waiting expectantly for her to give them their marching orders. Even Bastila moved quietly to sit with the other Jedi at the center table.

"First things first," she started, coughing a few times to clear her throat. "The Sith do plenty of business with slavers, and Twi'leks and Wookiees are at the top of every slaver's wish list. So you two are staying inside, playing pazaak, and pretending to be happy about it, okay?"

Mission crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to sulk. "Yes Mommy." Zaalbar's soft grunts of acknowledgement dissolved into hoots of laughter.

Ilithia let out an amusedly exasperated sigh. "Just try to find something interesting on the holovid – I know everything's in reruns this time of year, but just try." The little Twi'lek grinned and nodded. Ilithia turned to the three Jedi sitting around the common table – Bastila sat ramrod straight, knees together and hands delicately clasped and resting on her lap. Juhani was more relaxed, leaning against the seatback, but apprehensive and attentive. Jolee, by contrast, was draped over two seats, feigning sleep but still somehow giving Ilithia a look that screamed _I-dare-you-to-try-to-order-me-around-missy_. "Bastila…Juhani," she began. "You both probably have old friends who have made their way here. And while they might believe that Juhani has fallen and is coming to train, they'd never believe that of you, Bastila." The youngest Jedi smiled proudly. "So for our safety as well as yours, you need to stay on the ship, too."

"Very well," Bastila chirped, halfway between disappointed and relieved. "I will stay and learn 'pazaak'."

_It's a game, not a chore_. "Always good to broaden your horizons," Ilithia muttered under her breath, turning towards the next person on her list – Canderous.

He started shaking his head the moment her eyes shifted. "Do not make me have to stay here with the kid, the fleabag, the catwoman, and the Twi'lek."

"I'm not," Ilithia assured him, choking back a snicker at the sight of Bastila flushing angrily upon realizing she was 'the kid'. "You get to spend some quality time with the old coot."

"Hrmph," Jolee grunted indignantly, still stretched out as if asleep. "The 'old' I'll admit to, but what have I done to deserve 'coot'?"

Ilithia rolled her eyes, amused but unwilling to let him know it. "An old curmudgeon, then, who I recall in the midst of all his ramblings over dinner back on Kashyyyk mentioning something about having been a smuggler in his younger days," she replied.

One of Jolee's eyes finally cracked open. "You heard that, huh?"

Everyone chuckled at that, even Bastila. "This one doesn't miss a trick," Canderous growled appreciatively.

"No," Jolee said slowly, opening his other eye and raising himself into a sitting position. "I expect she wouldn't." Ilithia felt rather than saw Bastila squirm uncomfortably. "Anyhow," Jolee continued, "What's the story behind this little operation – I'm the pilot, the Mandalorian's the muscle, go forth and dig up whatever information on the Academy and the Star Map that we can?"

"Basically, yes," Ilithia chirped. "So it's back to your bunkroom, off with the robes, and then try to keep yourselves out of too much trouble – I don't want to find out what the Sith charge for bail." Jolee nodded curtly and sprang out of his seat with an unexpected spryness, trotting off towards the portside bunks. "Okay, now Juhani, I –" Heavy footsteps advancing from the portside bunks caught her attention – finally. "Carth, good to –" She stopped again as the pilot came into sight, buckling the last pieces of Calo Nord's scrubbed and modified armor into place. "What do you think you're doing?"

Carth shoved Bendak's old blaster into a holster. "Coming with you, of course," he stated flatly.

She started to shake her head. "Carth –"

"You said 'we'," he growled, stepping close to her and lowering his voice so the others couldn't hear. "When you promised to help me save him you said 'we' – and don't even think of trying to argue that you didn't specify who 'we' were," he added, pointing a finger at her. She frowned – that had been exactly what she'd been planning to say. "The only people in that conversation – and that promise – were you. And. Me," he finished, stabbing his finger in the air for emphasis.

"Fine," she sighed. He was right – and since Dustil was in the Academy, there was no point in arguing that her promise didn't include taking Carth all the way in. "But the fact that you're a soldier – and not a Sith one, either – is going to be as obvious as a bantha in a bathhouse."

He smiled triumphantly. "I've already thought of the perfect cover story." Ilithia sighed, bracing herself. "I was a Republic soldier, an officer even, whose ship was attacked. I escaped in a life pod – was captured by gangsters – and sold into slavery," he said, glancing from Ilithia to Bastila and back again for dramatic effect. "To you."

Bastila snorted. "The Sith will never believe that."

"Only five seconds of a Taris swoop race prevented that from being your story, Bastila," Ilithia smirked. "It's not that implausible, is it?" Bastila seethed, but stayed silent. Ilithia's grin vanished as she turned back to Carth. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?" she sighed softly.

"Do you?" he shot back under his breath.

Ilithia bit her lip, but nodded curtly. _Fair point_. "Alright. Everybody else just sit tight for now," she announced, taking time to make eye contact with Juhani and give her an _I-might-need-you-later_ look. "We'll be in touch."

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"You! Jedi!"

Ilithia's boots clanged to a halt on the steel floor. _Why is it always me?_ She raised her eyes to the source of the shout, a young man clad in the grey uniform of a Sith student standing in front of three cringing and cowering civilians.

_Maybe you should dye your hair_, Jolee's voice rumbled in her mind. The Jedi, now looking rather scruffy in some of the wrinkled and carbon-scored armor left over from Taris, was passing almost unnoticed by the Sith, Canderous following close behind. _After all_, he continued, _red's pretty difficult to forget_.

"You're looking to get into the academy, are you not?" the Sith continued, pausing to glare disdainfully at her lightsabers. "Of course you are…why else would you be here?"

Ilithia's eyes narrowed in the direction of Jolee's retreating back. _Never_, she shot back. _I like being difficult_. She sensed an exasperated chuckle in his mind just before he turned the corner and vanished from her sight. "What of it?" she said casually, turning to focus on the sneering Sith.

"Let me pose a question to you, then," the young man drawled. "These hopefuls will never survive in the academy. A lesson must be taught, here…but I am at a loss as to what form it should take."

Standing at Ilithia's elbow, Carth snorted quietly. "This is rich."

The Sith's eyes snapped onto Carth momentarily, but then shifted back to Ilithia. "I'm thinking to spare them the effort of being killed and do it myself," he said, cocking his head to one side. "Perhaps I should turn their skin inside out? Or Force Lightning? It is a most impressive display." He gave Ilithia a taunting smile. "Or perhaps a bit of simple humiliation is in order – such as losing all control of their bodily functions…What do you think? I just can't seem to decide."

"I take it back," Carth said, his voice sinking to a shaky whisper. "This is disgusting."

Ilithia pushed aside the impulse to say something wittily insulting to the Sith in reply – _their game, their rules. _"So why are you asking me?" _ Play along_.

"Why not?" he shrugged. "I find it fun. Come now, a decision please."

The eyes of each hopeful turned towards her, begging with their eyes for the mercy they couldn't ask for with words. "I think humiliation would be enough," she said slowly. _They may be self-delusional fools willing to sacrifice their pride just to be Sith, but they deserve a chance to wake up and get out_.

The Sith seemed torn between agreement and contempt. "Perhaps having a bunch of hopefuls soiling themselves would be somewhat amusing. Let's see, shall we?" An arc of orange energy sprang from his fingertips, causing each hopeful to double over, convulsing. Ilithia fixed her eyes on her toes as an unmistakable acrid stench filled the air. Laughing, the Sith turned and sauntered away, while the hopefuls rushed past Ilithia and out of sight as fast as their aching muscles could carry them.

"Well, that was…enlightening," Carth said behind her, his voice choking.

She began picking her way past the mess left behind by the hopefuls, heading for a ramp that led deeper into the colony. "You've seen all the horrible things they do in war," she muttered, careful to keep her arms at her sides to hide the telltale cylindrical bulges of her lightsabers. "Why would anything the Sith do surprise you anymore?"

Carth shook his head as they started down the ramp. "I don't know. I guess…I've just never seen them this close up before," he shrugged. "I've seen the death and despair they leave behind, but I had no idea they could be so cavalier, so cruel, so –"

A blond Sith woman with a severe haircut stepped directly in Carth's path, cutting off both his stride and his words. "Look here, my dear friends," she purred, like a kath hound sizing up its prey, "We have some newcomers to the colony…led by a Jedi, no less." She glanced over at three other Sith who were moving to encircle Carth and Ilithia. "I don't believe I've seen any of them before, have you?" she asked them lazily.

"I hate Jedi," a pale-faced young man sneered, "And these fallen ones are even worse. They always get into the academy, and they think they're better than the rest of us!"

Carth took a step closer to Ilithia, his fingers itching to grasp his blasters. "Just what we needed," he muttered under his breath. "Some punks to come steal our lunch credits."

Ilithia suppressed an exasperated sigh while the blonde let out a peal of mocking laughter. "Smart-mouthed newcomers, to boot," she chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, stranger, I don't know whether you're aware of this or not, but here on Korriban the Sith do as they please. And we are Sith." She stepped up to stand inches from Ilithia's face, a few inches taller than the Jedi. "Quite literally, whether you live or die depends on our whim. What do you think of that, hmm?"

"I think that's a lot of responsibility for simple scum like you," she snapped, her patience with the Sith penchant for boastful threats already running low.

The Sith hesitated a moment, perhaps beginning to sense that this target would not be easily intimidated. "Those are very brave words for such an insignificant person," she said smoothly, color rising in her cheeks. "Do you not realize how many Sith are here in Dreshdae?"

"Is this a raffle?" Carth growled. Ilithia whirled around to tell him to keep his mouth shut, but he continued before she could get the words out. "How many guesses do we get?"

"Let me kill this one, Lashowe! Let me do it!" the pale young man cried.

The woman – Lashowe – dismissed his pleas with a wave of her hand. "Let's not be hasty. Our new friend here could yet offer up some amusement." Ilithia slowly turned back around, beginning to curl her hands around her lightsabers. "Yes, I think she might," Lashowe continued, directing her attention to Ilithia. "Amuse us. Make us laugh, and we just might consider allowing you to live."

"Generous offer," Ilithia growled angrily. "But I've got much more important things to do than talk to you, so if you really want a fight just go ahead and make the first move. It'll be your last."

Lashowe blinked, a violent shade of red flooding her face. "What!"

Another one of her Sith companions burst out laughing. "I think someone just stood up to you, Lashowe," he choked out, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Shut up, fool!" she snapped. "Unless you want to be next!" Lashowe rounded on Ilithia, almost spitting with rage. "I'll find you later," she hissed. "Trust me on that." Ilithia merely returned her steady glare until Lashowe let out a disgusted snort, then turned and stalked away, trailed by her still-laughing 'friends'.

Carth watched Ilithia carefully as her expression shifted from fury to a steely contempt. "Cold," she whispered to herself.

"Huh?"

"What you were saying before about seeing the Sith in action up close…when I sense them through the Force, they feel empty…cold." She shuddered, her skin prickling with a sudden chill. "I have a bad feeling about this place."

He let out a humorless laugh. "We're on a planet full of Sith with a Star Map – don't tell me a 'bad feeling' is the best your Jedi senses can do."

"No," she sighed, "But it's barely been ten minutes since we stepped off the ship, and I'm already really creeped out." _And really, really ready to whack the next person who gives me an excuse_. She started slowly down another hallway, trying to concentrate on what she could sense in the Force without walking smack into a wall. "I felt something like this at the other two Star Maps, but we're nowhere near the one here, and this feeling is so strong…"

Carth reached out and lightly touched Ilithia on her elbow. "Are you alright?" he asked gently.

She started to shiver, but shook her head, pushing that feeling away and locking it in a distant corner of her mind. "Yea, fine," she said quickly. "Let's just focus on getting into the Academy." _Focus on the mission…worry about your feelings later_. Rhythmic, pounding music announced the presence of a cantina up ahead. "One thing, Carth…next time a Sith tries to pick a fight with us, let me do all the talking, okay?"

He frowned, unsure what he'd done wrong, but knew there was no point in arguing. "Sure, if you say so," he mumbled.

"You're supposed to be a slave," Ilithia reminded him as the cantina drew into sight. "You're not supposed to be allowed to have an attitude." One glance inside the cantina told her to keep on walking – quieter and more sterile than the one in Taris' Upper City, it practically reeked of corporate management – _no good information there_. Only a shifty-eyed Rodian lurking near the entrance seemed remotely interesting, but Ilithia didn't have time for distractions. Ignoring Carth's bewildered gaze, she marched right past the cantina and through the doors to the planet's surface – and the Academy.

The stinging blast of a hot, gritty gust of wind was the first sensation to hit her when the outer doors opened. She had to shield her eyes from the biting gale before she could open them far enough to note the white brightness of the sun and the contrasting browns and reds of the rocks all around them. Angular, jagged cliffs rose up on their right, while the valley fell quickly away on their left – and before them stood the wind-worn, monolithic façade of the Sith Academy, flanked on either side by several generically androgynous statues. _Not incredibly intimidating_, she reflected, striding down the ramp and heading for the main doors, _but again – creepy_.

A lone guard in the familiar silvery-gold armor of the Sith stood by the door, but four others, one in the grey student uniform, also occupied the threshold. "What's up with the wannabes?" Carth whispered, jerking his chin at the three non-Sith, all of whom seemed to be in severe pain.

"Let's ask the man in charge," Ilithia said sharply, altering course slightly to come face to face with the Sith student. "Hi," she chirped, plastering the most convincing evil grin she could muster onto her face. The Sith gave no indication that he'd heard her other than a testy grunt. "Having fun?"

"Leave me be," he muttered petulantly. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Busy?" she replied, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. "Really?"

The Sith gave her an annoyed glare. "Yes," he grumbled.

"Ah," she said shortly. "So, then what are those guys doing standing over there?" The Sith snorted and rolled his eyes. "Is this some sort of test for them?" she asked, watching him closely.

"No - that's the whole point!" the Sith sneered. "Personally, I think it's wonderful fun…those fools actually think that if they stand there long enough, I'll let them become a Sith."

_Not this again…_ "So this isn't a real test for them?" Ilithia asked, biting her lip to force a hard edge into her voice.

"It's a test all right – to see if they're actually fool enough to die," the Sith replied, turning and really giving Ilithia a long, hard stare. "If they don't, however, I certainly wouldn't admit them just for that accomplishment."

She sensed Carth stirring indignantly behind her. "What would they have to do to get admitted?" she asked quickly.

"I don't think there's anything this pathetic lot could do to get a medallion from me," the young Sith said smoothly. "One of the younger apprentices might let them in, just for the sport of watching them fight each other, fail, and die, but not me."

"Sweet guy," Carth muttered, unable to restrain his revulsion. "He should get the Sith congeniality medal."

Ilithia whirled around, sensing the Sith's ire rising. "I don't remember granting you permission to speak unless spoken to, slave," she hissed at Carth, whose expression quickly morphed from anger to embarrassment. "You will hold your tongue until you've learned your place!" Waving a hand in front of his face for dramatic effect, she reached out with the Force and immobilized his vocal cords. _I'm sorry_, she tried to tell him with her eyes, watching the anger flood back onto his face as he realized what she'd done. _But if you want to tag along this is how it has to be_. "Anyhow," she breathed, turning back to the Sith, "What's this 'medallion' you mentioned?"

The Sith's gaze lingered on the seething Carth for a moment, then flicked back onto her. "It is the device given to one who has been accepted into the academy, but has not yet proved their worth as a student," he replied evenly.

"And what would I have to do to get my hands on one?" Ilithia asked, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

A flash of something resembling disappointment crossed the Sith's face at the realization that she was just another hopeful, albeit a mildly talented one. "Something impressive," he said slowly. "Something noteworthy…something that doesn't merely say you want to be a Sith, but rather that you deserve to be a Sith." His eyes began to study her figure. "I don't happen to have one with me now, but if you'd accompany me back to my quarters I'm sure we can come to a mutually satisfactory agreement."

_If this is really how their selection process works it's no wonder the dark Jedi we've run into have been such cupcakes_. "No thanks," she said, mustering another falsely sweet smile and letting her gaze drift briefly over towards Carth. "I've already taken care of that need."

"Ah," the Sith sighed sadly. "Well, torturing and eliminating your competition is always a reliable means of garnering attention," he continued, gesturing over at the three hopefuls still standing off to the side.

Ilithia shook her head. "Where's the challenge in that?" she asked rhetorically, casting a genuinely disdainful glance over at the hopefuls. _If they really are stupid enough to believe that's the way to become a Sith, maybe it's better they die now rather than go through what the Sith would do to them later_. "I'd very much prefer killing you and taking a medallion off of your lifeless corpse, but I can sense you're telling the truth about not having one on you," she said simply, relieved to be able to let some of her contempt for the Sith's petty cruelty show. "So for now, you get to live."

"Generous of you," the Sith hissed, as all hint of lust evaporated from his expression only to be replaced by an even more disturbing look of grudging admiration. "I think I'll go for some dinner…it will be fun to think of them while I gorge myself, and they'll still be here in an hour or two." He half-turned towards the Academy entrance before stopping and glancing back at her. "If you do happen to acquire a medallion, take it to Yuthura Ban, a Twi'lek Sith Master, and she will secure you a place in the Academy. You can usually find her in the Czerka cantina." His eyes gave her one last, long appraisal before he headed through the doors and in to the gloom of the Academy.

She glared angrily at the doors for a moment, then turned away with a shudder and a sigh. "That makes three ass-kickings I'll have to administer before leaving this place," she growled, striding back towards the colony. "I knew I wouldn't like this place, but –" A hand seized her elbow, spinning her around. She had both lightsabers in her hands before her eyes focused on Carth, who released his hold on his arm and jabbed a finger in the direction of his neck. "Right – sorry," she said quickly, removing the Force block she'd put on his voice.

"That hurt," he coughed, rubbing his throat.

"I said I was sorry," she replied, half-indignantly and half-apologetically, pivoting around and heading up the ramp into the colony. "Next time don't give me the excuse."

He let out an exasperated sigh as the doors slid open. "I'll keep my mouth shut from now on, I promise." The hopefuls gathered around the cantina entrance barely glanced as they passed by, though the shifty-eyed Rodian was still watching them a bit too closely for Carth's comfort. "Not that the Sith have needed much of an excuse to try to pick a fight with us," he added darkly, turning his gaze back onto Ilithia. Something in the tightness of her jaw and the set of her shoulders started to make his skin prickle underneath his armor. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, slowing his pace.

"I'm fine," she snapped without a break in her stride. "Why?"

"No reason." _Other than the feeling that the next Sith who even looks at you funny is getting their skull bashed in_. "You just seem a little edgy, that's all." She halted, craning her neck to give him a raised eyebrow and an _excuse-me?_ look. "Now don't get me wrong," he said quickly, backing up a step, "I completely understand – I just –" He stopped, his own gaze sharpening as he saw the corners of Ilithia's scowl beginning to twitch. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

An ear-to-ear grin spread across her face. "You're cute when you're worried. Especially when you think it's something you said."

Laughing would have attracted too much attention, so Carth restricted himself to a chuckle and a few shakes of his head. "Woman, I –"

"Ah, careful," she said lightly, taking a step closer to him. "Masters threaten their slaves with unspeakable acts of torture and torment, not the other way around." Her smile changed into a lascivious smirk as she slowly dragged one finger down the center of his chestplate.

"You're going to enjoy this, aren't you?" he muttered, sounding more intrigued than concerned.

A broadened smirk was his only answer. "Let's go find a medallion," she said, turning away and starting up the ramp towards the main sector of the colony.

"Any ideas how?" he asked, following.

"Just like we did on Taris," she chirped confidently, picking up her pace at the sight of a quartet of Academy students striking aggressive postures at the top of the ramp. "Dead Sith." She waited, expecting Carth to argue, but instead he drew his blasters and gave her a grim nod. _Good to know I'm not the only one feeling a little edgy_. "And then I'll follow the very first piece of advice you gave me."

"What was that?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Always start in the cantina_.

The instructors preferred to visit the cleaner and well-lit Czerka cantina in the colony's upper level, but the students flocked to the far dirtier and disreputable cantina in one of the lower levels, just a corridor away from the cargo docks. As distasteful as she'd found the idea of hanging out with Sith back on Taris, Ilithia knew she had to pretend to be one of them if she was going to survive the next few days, to say nothing of finding the Star Map. _Besides, my dead-Sith-versus-drunk-Sith ratio needs to be brought back into balance_.

She strode confidently into the cantina, moving slowly enough to glance around quickly for any familiar faces – friendly or otherwise – as she headed straight for the bar. The selection was thin, with only one cheap and acidic variety of whisky available, but she could choke it down if she took small sips. _At least I won't have to worry about getting smashed_, she reasoned, turning to lean back against the bar and survey her new colleagues.

They were older than she'd expected, given Dustil's presence and the youth of the Sith soldiers and dark Jedi encountered on Taris and Kashyyyk. Most couldn't be more than a few years younger than she was, though the range seemed to go all the way from late teens to mid-thirties. _I won't seem as unusual here as I did on Dantooine, then_, she thought, taking another sip of her drink. _There probably wasn't a cantina in the Enclave because there weren't enough sentients of legal drinking age there to keep one in business_.

The cantina doors swished open once again, admitting a female Cathar in Sith robes. Ilithia's pursuit of dead Sith had yielded not one, but two medallions – having already sent Jolee off with Canderous, and with Bastila ineligible, she'd decided Juhani should pose as a fellow fallen Jedi come to join the Sith. _Believable, given that she had fallen not too long ago – should add more credibility to my alleged fall_. Even though she and Juhani had entered the Academy together, Ilithia wanted them to build separate networks of acquaintances, in case one might hear something the other wouldn't. _Fallen Jedi come here often, so no one will worry that Juhani and I have some training in Force powers and lightsaber combat tech_–

A hand seized her by the shoulder, spinning her around and spilling her drink. "I told you I'd find you later," Lashowe hissed triumphantly.

"So you did," Ilithia acknowledged grimly. Juhani paused, but Ilithia avoided her gaze, hoping the Sith around them couldn't sense the _let-me-handle-this _message she was sending the other Jedi. "But did you have to waste half a glass of decently drinkable whisky in the process?"

"That will be the least of your concerns when I'm through with you," Lashowe growled, her eyes glittering.

Ilithia let out a long, dramatic sigh. _At least I'll be able to honestly say it was in self-defense_. "I imagine I'll be much more concerned with this colony's definition of assisted suicide," she muttered. Lashowe blinked, giving Ilithia a blank stare. _Bad attitudes and no sense of humor? I'm going to hate this place_. Ilithia sat her drink on the counter with a shrug and dropped her hands to her sides. "Take your best shot."

She waited until the last possible moment to parry Lashowe's first lunge, the beam of her long saber igniting just as it met Lashowe's blade. A few appreciative whistles came from the gathering crowd, predictably drawn to the glow of lightsabers in the dimly lit cantina. Lashowe let out a frustrated, angry cry as she rushed at Ilithia a second time, only to have her attack deflected with a similarly minimal effort. "Your approaches are too obvious," Ilithia told the other woman in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. "Are you even trying to execute a feint?" _I would've criticized her regardless, but her tactics so far are even worse than Bastila's_.

"I think she is," a male voice spoke out from the crowd, "But you're right – she's too aggressive, with no time for any deception in her movements."

Ilithia's eyes widened when she located the speaker. _Same jaw, same chin, same eyes…but while his father feels as warm as an Alderaanian summer's day he's just as cold as the other Sith_. The diversion of her attention gave Lashowe a brief opening for another attack – Ilithia had to bring her second blade into play to avoid being nicked. A surge of adrenalin began to flow through her as she went on the offensive, striking easily through Lashowe's defenses with her long blade while maintaining a screen with the shorter saber. "If dying tonight wasn't part of your plan," Ilithia growled, backing an increasingly fearful Lashowe towards the wall, "I suggest you head back to your room and spend the next little while staying as far away from me and my companions as possible."

Lashowe looked for a moment as if she might do just that, but a few snickers from the crowd set her teeth back on edge. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," she snarled, flourishing her saber in preparation for another attack.

"What makes you think you actually had a chance?" Ilithia chuckled darkly. That only seemed to enrage Lashowe more, wringing another strangled cry from her as she charged Ilithia again – and again Ilithia effortlessly deflected the attack. "I warned you your first move would be your last," she added, relaxing into a defensive pose.

"You can't kill me," Lashowe cried, striking out again, more loosely and recklessly than before. "I am a Sith, and you are not!"

"Correction: you never really were a Sith," Ilithia hissed, brushing away the other woman's flailing slashes with her long saber, clearing the way for a single, driving stab of her short blade into Lashowe's midsection. "And you didn't deserve to be." A strangled, gurgling sound was the Sith's only reply as her body slid off Ilithia's saber and slumped lifelessly to the floor.

Ilithia held her stance for a few long moments, breathing heavily and trying to will the thumping in her head to subside. When a few long moments passed with no movement and no sense of danger from the subdued but buzzing crowd she deactivated her sabers, nudging Lashowe's body with one foot. _At least there's not too much of a mess_. She started emptying Lashowe's pockets – a few credits, another Sith medallion, and an assortment of extremely powerful and illegal stims – but Ilithia took it all anyway, moving slowly and deliberately to give herself time to gage the crowd's mood. The Sith who'd been with Lashowe seemed both cowed and awed at their leader's sudden demise, and the rest seemed almost pleased to see a bully without the talent to back up her boasting removed from their ranks. Only Dustil and his friends even took the risk of returning her gaze. Even Juhani, sitting alone at a table next to one occupied by some more familiar faces from earlier that day, didn't look up from the small ale she'd purchased. Ilithia could sense the other Jedi's confusion, half-knowing that had ended the only way it possible could, the other remorseful that another way had not been found. _We'll have a chance to chat later_, Ilithia promised herself, picking her whisky back up off the bar and making for an empty table in a far corner. _I really hope I don't gain prestige for this_.

She'd only made it a few steps when another hand seized her by the shoulder. "Pretty impressive display there," said a familiarly gruff voice, bursting with pride and admiration.

"Thank you," she said pleasantly, casting one more derisive glance at the silent Sith before turning towards the sound of that voice. _Should've figured he'd find his way here_. "You're not a student at the Academy, are you?" she asked, knowing his lack of a lightsaber and the fact that he wore armor rather than the grey uniform of the Sith would already be attracting interest.

Canderous' grin widened. "No – and if this is the way you treat each other, I'm glad of it."

"It's not for everyone," Ilithia replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I find myself in need of another drink."

"Allow me," he said quickly, waving her towards his table, where an open and half-full bottle of the same whisky she'd had stood next to a raggedly dressed, scowling old man. "Pour some whisky for my new friend, slave," Canderous said.

The only reason Jolee scowled was to keep himself from bursting out laughing. "Yes master, right away master."

"All the way to the top, please." _Slave?_ Ilithia sent to the older Jedi, biting her lip to keep her own amusement hidden.

_No one bought the idea that this old man was either in charge of or even partnered with Mr. Big-'N-'Tuff here_, Jolee replied, followed by the mental equivalent of an indignant harrumph as he finished with Ilithia's glass and started refilling Canderous'. _So now I'm the slave who flies the ship_.

"So," Canderous muttered quietly, "You got in to – hey!" He reached over and seized Jolee's wrist, which had been continuing to pour whisky into Ilithia's glass even after it was overflowing onto the table. "Pay more attention, slave!"

"Sorry master," Jolee grumped. "I didn't hear her say 'when', master." Ilithia sniggered and hid her face behind her glass. "But then my hearing's not so good," the old man continued, corking the bottle and backing away from the table as if dismissed. "I'm just pleased my nice master doesn't beat me so much anymore."

Canderous' eyes narrowed – if he had a sense of humor, he controlled it much better than his Jedi companions. "Then make sure you don't waste another drop of that whisky, even if it is little better than gundark piss," he hissed. "Now go away until I call for you." The old man moved off, mumbling. "Now, as I was saying," the Mandalorian continued, lowering his voice to a bare whisper, "Only one day and you've already managed to get in?"

"You've seen an example of the talent level they've got here," she growled in reply.

He chuckled. "Not much trouble, then?"

"None at all," she said smoothly. "Have you picked up on anything?"

"Not much," Canderous conceded with a sigh, "Other than the fact that the _Ebon Hawk_ was recognized as soon as we landed." He took a large gulp of his drink, holding a grimace in place for a moment before swallowing it down with a loud exhale.

She stopped halfway towards a sip of her own. "Oh?"

The Mandalorian waved a reassuring hand in her direction. "By another smuggler, a Rodian, who paid us handsomely for some leftover spice Davik had so thoughtfully left in a secret compartment in the cargo hold." Ilithia nodded, relieved, then raised her glass and swallowed all the whisky in one gulp. "He also offered to pay us more for transporting some small cargo to Tatooine," Canderous added, watching her grab for the bottle and pour her own refill. "Since we're headed there eventually and I figured there was no harm in saying yes."

"Depends on what that cargo is," she said, taking a smaller but still substantial sip of her whisky. "But we're short on credits, so as long as the Ice Princess doesn't find out I'll pretend not to know." She relaxed back in her chair, feeling the warm wave of alcohol relax her muscles for the first time in hours. "Anything else of interest?" she sighed.

Canderous let his gaze roam over the other patrons. "Not really. You?"

"After what just happened you need to ask?" she replied, chuckling darkly.

He jerked his chin in a single, swift nod. "Seen the kid?"

Ilithia raised her glass to hide the movements of her lips. "Second table from the right side of the entrance," she murmured, sending the same information to Jolee as she spoke. Three pairs of eyes glanced over in the same direction, then quickly moved back to stare at their table. "I haven't had a chance to talk to him, though," she added, draining what was left in her glass.

"If you want an introduction arranged just say the word," Canderous said, finishing his drink and reaching for the bottle.

She waved her hand over her glass, indicating she wanted a refill of her own. "How do you figure that?"

"Because he's looking over at you every chance he gets," he replied, obligingly pouring whisky into her glass. "So is everyone else here, but if he's anything like his father I think I know how we can get his attention."

"Oh?" She tried to sneak another quick look over at the young Sith while taking a sip from her drink, only to have her eyes met in mid-glance by Dustil's own surreptitious attempt to look at her. "Do I want to know what you have in mind?" she said, shifting quickly to stare down at the table.

Canderous' gaze hardened suddenly. "Can't you guess?" he purred, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him in a single, swift movement.

Ilithia flushed, surprised and embarrassed. "I don't think –"

"No?" the Mandalorian interjected, squeezing her uncomfortably. "It always seems to work for the pilot."

Anger flared in her expression – exactly the reaction Canderous had been hoping for. "Take your hands off me," she whispered through clenched teeth, "Or I'll –"

"Get lost, Mandalorian."

Canderous raised his eyes to give the teenage Sith an amused glare. _You can take the boy out of the Onasis…_ "I don't take orders from kids," he growled.

The young man with the same square jaw as his father returned the Mandalorian's stare with an icy confidence. "I'm no kid," he hissed. "And if you don't fancy ending up like her," he continued, jerking his head over in the direction of Lashowe's corpse, which was finally being attended to by a few of the cantina's slaves, "You'd do well to leave the lady alone."

"What makes you think you –"

The sudden feeling of cold metal pressing into his neck silenced Canderous. "Leave, Mandalorian," hissed the female Cathar, whose unignited lightsaber was digging further into his skin when only moments before she had been quietly minding her own ale on the other side of the cantina.

"Fine," Canderous sighed, watching the boy watch the two women exchange curt nods. _We couldn't have played this any better if we'd planned it_. "If this is the company you want to keep, that's your choice," he told Ilithia, casting one last derisive glance at Dustil, and waving the old man waiting in the shadows towards the exit. "I'll be around if you want something done right."

Ilithia watched them go, waiting for Jolee to speak some parting words of caution or conspiracy in her mind, but all was silent as the two men passed through the doors and out into colony. "I suppose it would be un-Sith-like of me to say that while your intervention was far from necessary, it was appreciated," she said flatly, turning back towards the table and the teenage boy standing on its other side.

"It might be," he said, shrugging lightly, "But I'm not an instructor, so I'll let you slide by this time."

"Generous of you," she snorted in reply. She took hold of the abandoned whisky bottle and topped off her glass, then passed it to the Cathar. "Would it have killed you to give me a hand with the blond bitch?" Ilithia sighed as Juhani poured herself a small drink.

"You seemed to have things under control," she replied mildly. "Interference was unnecessary."

Dustil again glanced quickly between the two women. "You two know each other already?" he asked calmly.

"Yea," Ilithia said, nodding. "We're both refugees from the hypocritical self-righteousness of the Jedi."

"Fugitives," Juhani added.

"Escapees," Ilithia countered playfully.

Juhani gave a small, almost sad smile. "Exiles."

"This is a good place for exiles," Dustil said, giving them an almost-genuine grin. "Hell, the Sith attacked my homeworld, and I found my way here anyhow."

Ilithia's eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you manage that?" she asked, hoping to sound casually curious. "Don't you blame the Sith for what happened, for any family or friends who might have died?"

The sharp stab of grief that coursed through his mind was unmistakable, but Ilithia felt him push it away, subordinating that thought to a different set of feelings – betrayal, abandonment, rejection, disappointment. "The Sith were just doing what Sith do – taking whatever opportunity they had to increase their power," Dustil said slowly. "There's no point in hating them for it. Joining is the best way to make sure you don't find yourself in their sights a second time." He let out a long, controlled breath.

"The Sith also attacked my homeworld," Juhani said softly.

"Really?" Dustil said, brightening. "The Jedi must have really pissed you off to drive you to come here."

The Cathar cast a strange glance in Ilithia's direction. "The world I knew as a child was destroyed to ensure the death of a single Jedi," she growled, letting a little more of her anger out with each word. "And even though the Jedi escaped, and the people of Taris died for nothing, never did I hear any Jedi ever express any regret, or remorse. They are as heartless and cold as the Sith."

_Taris!_ Ilithia felt her face go slack with shock. _Juhani…I didn't know…I –_

"Taris?" Dustil mused, pulling back slightly from the table. "That was just a few months ago. You two move fast."

"That's the plan," Ilithia said tightly, recovering. "I hope to have enough of this 'prestige' to get into the Academy by the end of the week."

Dustil nodded slowly. "They only let one hopeful in at a time, so your friend will have to wait until next time if you come out on top," he mused, frowning slightly. "Which reminds me – I don't think I've caught your names." He flashed a broad, flirtatious grin at Ilithia, finally betraying his youth with the combination of awkwardness and over-eagerness that turned his grin into grimace.

"I'm Ilithia." _He's so young; barely a teenager_. Carth had said he was twelve when Telos was attacked, which would make him sixteen now – _the age where we try to do everything and succeed at nothing_. "My friend's name is Juhani. And yours is…?"

The grin faded slightly. "Dustil."

"Is there a family name that goes with that?" she asked quickly.

"Not anymore," he snapped. "And what's with all the questions about me? You should be concerned about you."

She waved a hand in the air as she took a drink from her glass. "Oh, I never worry about myself that much," she said breezily. "But I'm insatiably curious, and I always like to get a feel for the sort of people I'll be dealing with in advance." The strong feelings she'd sensed in him earlier had returned – anger derived from pain, much of it directed at his memory of his father. _Damnit. This isn't going to go well._

Dustil nodded approvingly, relaxing. "And what sort of people do you think we are?"

"Amateurs, mostly," Ilithia replied cheerily, throwing up defenses in her mind as she felt Dustil's attempt to probe her thoughts. _If we stay much longer he's likely to pick up on something. _"The Jedi may be self-delusional and hidebound, but their training would appear to be more rigorous and effective. I barely put up with them for two months, and she was the sixth one of you I've killed today," she said, glancing over at the now-empty and freshly scrubbed patch of floor where Lashowe had fallen. _That's the last thing we need._

"I'd say that was a bold statement," Dustil muttered grudgingly, "But word of your body count reached the Academy long before you did." He lifted his glass and took a long sip from it, trying to sense her through the Force behind the screen of that motion. There was too much movement in the Force, too much swirling uncertaintly to sense anything beyond wild, restless power. "If there's one thing we Sith have to respect, it's power," he continued, his tone softening cautiously. "But the rumors I heard said there were three of you."

Ilithia nodded, finishing her drink. "My slave. Who I really ought to be getting back to," she sighed, glancing at the chronometer on the wall. "Wouldn't want him to be misbehaving without being around to benefit from it." Juhani choked on her drink, coughing into her hand to hide her smile. "Coming?" she inquired blithely of Juhani, who managed an affirmative nod in the middle of her coughing. Ilithia tilted her head back towards Dustil. "I imagine I'll see you around."

"You can bet on it," he replied, grinning and reaching for the bottle. "And you won't need to watch your step on the way back to the Academy," he added as he refilled his glass. "Most people here don't care enough about anyone else to miss them when they're dead."

Something about the sudden edge in his voice, the set of his jaw, the tiny bit of unnecessary force with which he set the bottle back down on the table… "Where would I need to watch my step?" Ilithia asked delicately.

Dustil gripped his glass hard enough for his knuckles to show white in the dim light. "The Valley. Lots of people have accidents out there."

_But it's just one person that he misses…_ "Okay. Thanks." Ilithia slapped one hand lightly on the table, waited for Juhani to compose herself and begin walking towards the door, then gave Dustil a curt, polite smile before turning and striding steadily out of the cantina.

They took the first few steps in silence, each woman sunk deep into her own thoughts. As they reached the foot of the ramp to the upper level of the colony, Juhani let out a soft sigh. "This will be difficult," she said grimly.

Ilithia heaved a sigh of her own. "You can say that again."

"This will be difficult."

Ilithia had her mouth open halfway, hoping she could explain that what she'd said was just a figure of speech without sounding condescending, when she caught sight of a grin threatening to break through Juhani's studied seriousness. _She's teasing me_. "Thanks," she chuckled, relaxing and giving the Cathar a reassuring grin. "I probably needed that."

"Yes," Juhani replied, reaching the top of the ramp, "I thought –"

A grey Sith uniform, topped by the tattooed face of Yuthura Ban, stepped out suddenly from behind a support beam. "There you are," the pale purple Twi'lek growled, her eyes locked on Ilithia as she waved a hand dismissively towards Juhani. "Leave us."

The Cathar waited until Ilithia gave her a slight, _it's-OK_ nod before gliding away. Ilithia waiting until she lost sight of Juhani before fixing her gaze on the Sith Master. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked curtly.

"As a matter of fact, there is," Yuthura replied calmly. "I am certain you will be the one to achieve the prestige necessary to join the Sith than any of the others – one of which, I am told, you have already eliminated." Ilithia willed herself to be still, shoving the image of Lashowe's corpse out of her mind. "In fact," the Twi'lek continued blithely, "I am so certain of that that I'm willing to offer you an opportunity of the once-in-a-lifetime variety. Would you like to hear it?"

"Sure," Ilithia said, trying to sound confident through her clenched teeth.

Yuthura practically beamed. "Good. I do so adore someone who's willing to take a chance."

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End file.
